


Broken Wings

by Out0fMyHead



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Multi, Post Hogwarts AU, Post-Hogwarts, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, spousal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 25
Words: 43,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Out0fMyHead/pseuds/Out0fMyHead
Summary: What happens when Severus Snape acts like the ultimate jerk to the wrong witch? Will anyone be able to help him or is he doomed to a fate most would argue he deserves?Hermione doesn't want anyone to know that things aren't as happy between her and Ron as they pretend. He suffers trauma from the war and has developed some less than favorable tendencies. At first she thought she could help him, now she can't even figure out how to help herself.But maybe they can help each other?





	1. Prologue :.: Wicked Witch

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

“You’re leaving?” Severus turned back to stare into the injured eyes of the witch who lay sprawled across the bed he’d only just occupied. He finished fastening his trousers and cocked an eyebrow, his face set in its usual blank stare.

“Obviously.” Came his dull retort as he swept up one heavy dragonhide boot and jammed his foot inside, black eyes back on his work.

“But…I thought what we had…” She trailed, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I thought it was something different. You consider me just another one of your whores, Severus Snape?”

Her voice was rising in octave, becoming shrill and he cleared his throat at the sound, silencing her.

“It is unfortunate if I have mislead you, or perhaps better to say you have allowed yourself to fall into delusion.” He turned, standing stalk straight with his black eyes boring down on the witch, she was sitting up, perky breasts exposed, dark nipples peeked in the morning chill.

He set about fastening the plethora of buttons on his frockcoat, never one to leave a witch’s home showing what he’d been up to.

“I would, if I were you, consider this a learning experience and _not_ crawl into bed with just any wizard. Perhaps play a bit of hard to get, next time, darling.” He began to work on tying his cravat, his interest in her all but lost even as she huffed an angry sigh and snatched at her wand.

He was so busy being the self-serving prick he’d become since the war he didn’t even realize she’d cast the binding charm until he was locked up, on the floor, glaring at the enraged witch.

“You, Severus Snape, are every bit the bastard they claim you to be! Damn you!” She crowed, her wand still pointed at him as she stood, still completely nude, and gave him a hateful glare.

She stroked her wand lovingly, her blue eyes flaring darkly, nearly as black as his own as she stared down at him with rage.

“Well, I’ll be the last witch you treat like trash!” She cried, pointed her wand at him, and cast a spell of her own design, one that left the bound wizard writhing on the floor as his bones cracked and shifted.

She cackled when he finally stood before her, a deep black crow, emitting a befuddled caw.

 _What has that bitch done to me?!_ He stared around the room, dizzy and uncomfortable, he flapped his wings… _WINGS_?! And gave another dismayed sound before taking flight into the air.

“Enjoy your new life, **darling**!” The witch cackled and watched as he flew out the window, bobbing up and down on uncertain wings and flying into the distance.  
“Serves him right.” She slammed the window shut and turned, her face set in stone as she set about cleaning up the mess from the night before.  
“Prick.”


	2. One :.: Hermione Weasley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Hermione stared out her bedroom window, it was a terrible day, the rain was pelting down on the glass in front of her, creating a tapping sound that grated on her nerves and the dreary sky seemed to cast grey across the entire world. She massaged her wrist as she stared, she needed to be writing but she couldn’t find it in herself to focus on her work.

She’d taken to working from home on Ron’s request, a year ago right after they’d been married and it seemed more and more stifling to her the longer she did the work. She wasn’t by any means a social creature, she wasn’t someone who enjoyed being amongst the crowd and she was just as happy to be alone with a book but- there was something missing from her life when she spent every day at home, locked in her room.

She thought about the job offer to work in Hogwarts’ library that she’d had to turn down often, sad when she remembered the look of disapproval Ron had given her when she’d even suggested it.

Hermione heaved a breath and shook her head, shaking herself from her thoughts and bringing up a hand to rub at her cheek delicately. The sting had gone the moment she’d used a healing charm but the memory would forever remain.

Just like the memory of every other injury, of every night spent in the same bed as the monster she called her husband.

Oh- but he hadn’t been a monster in the beginning, had he? No, he’d been kind, and compassionate, a little goofy, and wonderfully oblivious.

He’d always had a bit of a temper but, before they’d wed she could count on one hand the number of times it had been turned on her. Now however, now she didn’t think there were enough fingers and toes on his entire quidditch team to count all of the times.

And that was a lot of fingers and toes.

She’d thought, at first that she could help him, that she could aid him in his recovery. She knew he was suffering flashbacks from the war, they all were, Harry had even gone as far as to visit with a therapist, something from the muggle world that was slowly integrating itself into their own. He’d offered them both his therapist’s card.

Ron had taken it with a broad smile and a ‘thanks mate’, and she’d had a sparkle of hope.

That hope was doused when they’d returned home and he’d thrown the card into the fireplace, warning her not to say a word. She’d wanted to argue with him, to tell him he needed help, but at that point- at that point he’d already shown her exactly what he thought of her ideas to get him help.

She stared blankly at the parchment in front of her, she really needed to get to work, she had a deadline to meet for the Minister, he needed all of his letters transcribed and on his desk by noon. She cast a quick tempus, eleven o’clock, she really needed to get to work on the last letter.

Tapping the cube beside her with the tip of her wand the small box began to glow and the Minister’s voice drifted from the charmed cube, giving her the gist of what needed to be said and allowing her to make it sound professional.

She sighed when she was finally done and settled the quill down on her desk, she dried the letter with a quick spell and rolled it to join the others, settling it into the box she kept at her desk and watching as they vanished in a swirl of magic.

Her eyes flickered back to the window, the glass pane still being pelted by the rain.

With a groan that made her feel older than she knew herself to be she stood, slipped into the restroom, and downed a vial of contraceptive potion, her husband would be home for lunch soon. It hadn’t taken her long to learn that he had expectations, and it was her job to meet them.

Hermione stood out in the rain, the water running down her scalp invoking a sort of tickling sensation. She had her arms wrapped around her torso and she was listening to the rain as it splashed into the puddles that littered the road and lawn. She was feeling incredibly drained after her afternoon catering to her husband’s whims.

Her wet clothes were clinging to her and her hair hung in limp curls down her back and over her shoulders as she stood there, staring out into the downpour. She swallowed, listening to the distant cry of birds as the rain began to slow.

She wanted to be like them, take off and fly away as far as she wanted to go with nothing to hold her, nothing to tie her down.

She’d run away once, went to stay with Ginny and Draco, who were the current master and mistress of Malfoy Manor, but Ron had come knocking and begged her to come back.

She was stupid, she’d believed he wouldn’t ever hurt her again and left with him.

He’d beaten her so badly she couldn’t walk the next day, taken her wand and threatened to destroy it. Only when she made the unbreakable vow that she’d never leave him again, of her own free will, did he give the wand back and leave her alone. He was gone for three days that time.

He’d come back drunk, and nice, and she’d hoped that maybe the unbreakable vow would change something in him.

As it was, it hadn’t worked, and now she was stuck, tied down to the prick and unable to do anything about it.

“Should’ve told Harry.” She grumbled to herself, the rain had stopped and left in its wake a chill in the air that made her skin break out in gooseflesh.

Now telling Harry would do no good, she couldn’t willingly leave Ron, and if they took him away she would willingly be away from him, they’d have to throw her away with him, and he would claim he was getting help but he wouldn’t actually be doing it.

No, he’d broken her wings, taken away her chance to fly and now she had to suffer the consequences. She was the one who’d married him after all. She’d made the choices that lead her to this road, it wasn’t fair, but when had life ever been fair?

Never. The answer was never.

The caw of a crow caught her attention, tearing her from her thoughts and drawing her gaze, its black eyes were incredibly keen, locked on her and it landed on the ground, shuffling closer.

She tipped her head at the bird, giving it a confused look.

“Well hello there?” She greeted in the form of a question and it made another noise, hopping up onto her shoulder with the rustle of feathers.

She squealed but tried not to jump and startled the bird, unsure why it was anywhere near her, and where its companions were.

She knew crows typically traveled in flocks, a murder, but she saw no such thing and shrugged as the bird tugged at her hair with its beak.

“Oww! That isn’t very nice at all!” She chided the bird, immediately feeling like an idiot even as she shooed it away.

It came right back, landing on her shoulder again and she shooed it again before rushing into her house.

When she shut the door with relief she turned to see the crow sitting in her entryway floor, staring up at her with those keen dark eyes.

“Oh, Ronald is not going to be happy about this.” Was all she managed, it gave another caw in response.  
“Keep your attitude to yourself, if you please sir.” She huffed and turned to walk away. No sense fighting with the bird, she could only hope if she left a window open it would take off before Ron could make it home from practice.


	3. Two :.: Bird Brains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Severus was growing accustomed to looking through his bird-eyes. He’d flown, almost immediately to the home he knew Hermione and Ronald Weasley shared and had almost shouted his luck at finding the witch outside.

If he could have shouted that was. As it was he could do no such thing, and when he’d pulled her hair she’d tried to run away from him so that wouldn’t work.

He contemplated his options, sitting on the back of her sofa as she sat curled in a little ball and read a book that he didn’t particularly care to acknowledge. He needed to figure out how to make the witch see who he was, then she would be able to aid him in becoming a human again.

Or at least, he hoped she would. She was after all the brightest witch of her age, and much as he wanted to stick to his guns that she was a useless little know-it-all, he knew better than to truly let himself believe it. As it was, Hogwarts would probably recognize his magical signature and deny him entrance without permission, and the witch hadn’t even thought to see if he was magical or not.

She’d taken him at face value.

Perhaps she wasn’t as intelligent as she seemed.

“You certainly make a lot of noise, I would be fine with you staying, if my husband wouldn’t kill you.” She turned to look at him, a slim brown eyebrow raised and he made a sound like a croak, it annoyed him that his range was so terrible.

 _Please, Weasley couldn’t hit the broad side of Umbridge’s bum with a spell, he certainly won’t be doing any damage to me._ He huffed internally as the witch brought a finger back and stroked his head gently.

“It wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all to have a friend. I’m very lonely these days, and you don’t seem too bad. I may be able to coax him into a letting you stay…” She trailed in thought, biting a nail and as he observed her he realized something.

She seemed different, more subdued. Her voice was soft, her tone cautious even speaking to what she believed to be an ordinary crow.

_Peculiar._

“Will you be my friend then, if I can convince my husband not to kill you?” She heaved a sigh.  
“You’re talking to a bird, Hermione, oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

At that moment, the front door opened and Severus shot his eyes to the sound, Hermione stood, brushing off her clothing and taking a deep breath. She glanced at him one more time before she shuffled out of the room, he followed close behind, watching her ankles as she walked in front of him.

“There you are, why weren’t you at the door to greet me, Mione?” The dolt’s voice rang through the air and Severus cringed inwardly.

She had to greet him at the door? How droll.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was caught up in a book, I came as soon as I heard the door.” She put a hand on his shoulder, and he gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead. She heaved a breath, Severus saw him tense when he saw him looming behind her.

“What is that?” He growled and Hermione stepped to the side, blocking Severus’ smaller body from Weasley’s line of sight.

“He’s a bird, Ron, a crow, I think he may have been injured in the storm. You won’t mind me keeping him, will you?”

“Doesn’t look injured to me, we don’t need a stupid bird here anyway.” He huffed and Hermione took a deep breath, her eyes flitting back to him on the floor.

 _How fitting, he’s still a moron yet I’m the one stuck as a bird._ Severus sneered to himself but kept his body hidden behind the witch’s legs, just in case.

He didn’t remember the Weasley boy being quite so hostile, but things changed, he supposed.

“But Ron, don’t you think, I mean wouldn’t it be a good idea for me to have someone here with me? I’m going absolutely mad cooped up here all of the time.” She put her hand on his arm again and Severus could see his posture relax, he took the witch’s fingers in his and tugged her forward.

“What will you do for me if I let you keep it?” He breathed into her face and Severus wondered momentarily if it disgusted her as much as it did him.

Probably not, she was married to the git, after all.

“I can do that thing you enjoy, tonight when we go to bed…?” She offered, Severus turned to hustle away on his little bird feet, not interested in hearing the rest.

Her squeak of pain made him turn his head back to the couple, his body still facing the way he’d been going. Weasley had his fingers in her hair, balled in a fist and had tugged her head back roughly, exposing her neck and making her whimper.

“For a week, Hermione.” He tugged her head back further and she whimpered again.

“As much as you want.” She conceded, he released her hair and let her go, watching as she backed away from him a few steps.

All Severus could feel was rage. He’d seen his father do that to his mother so many times it made him sick to recall.

He’d have killed the git, if he weren’t stuck as a bird, though he was certain something could be arranged.

“I’m going out with my mates from the team, I’ll be back late.” He tugged her to him, pressed a hard kiss to her lips that sounded as violent as it looked, and then left again, walking out into the still rain soaked streets before he apparated away.

Severus watched the witch for a long moment as she slumped against the closed door, her eyes closed and her fingers on her bleeding lips.

“You better appreciate this.” She exhaled as she slid down onto her bum, her legs pulled up to her chest. He couldn’t help himself from hopping back over to her, landing on her knees and giving another low croak.

 _Why Granger, why are you letting him do this to you?_ He tipped his head, wondering what would possess a brave, powerful witch like herself to let someone treat her like dirt.

“I’ll take that to mean you do, appreciate it.” She heaved a breath and stroked his head again, her soft fingers delicate on him. Severus watched her, eyes still focused on her face, she licked the blood away from her lip but made no face to show it bothered her. He wondered how many times she’d done it before.  
“I feel like a madwoman, talking to a bird.” She laughed at herself and ran her fingers through her hair, Severus watched her, still trying to figure it out.

_Well, I would have to agree, if I hadn’t seen that display just now._

“So, what will we name you then?” She brought her fingers down to stroke his chest and he clicked his beak at her, if she gave him a girly name he would peck her eyes out in her sleep. Or pull all of her hair out.

“Hummmm.” She contemplated, stroking his chest with one hand and tapping her chin with the other.  
“Well, you don’t look like a Harry.”

 _Thank Merlin for that._ He grumbled.

“Perhaps I should call you Poe, no, that was a Raven…” She trailed, still looking at him closely.

_What are you on about now, witch? Poe? Ravens?_

“I suppose that means Nevermore is out of the question as well.” She shook her head, Severus wished birds could scowl.  
“I could call you Bird Brains.” She smirked.

 _I believe that title belongs to your husband, though I am flattered you think so highly of me._ Severus was near snarling now.

“Ah! I know!” Her eyes were sparkling, it was never a good thing when eyes sparkled, Dumbledore had taught him that much.  
“I’m going to call you Professor.” She tapped the side of her nose. “Though I won’t tell you why.”

Severus woke with a start on his perch atop Granger’s headboard, his eyes alert as soon as they snapped open and locked on the Weasley boy stumbling into the room.

He shooed him and Severus flew to the other side of the room, glaring as Weasley shook the witch’s shoulder violently and then fell on top of her in the bed.

She groaned at the weight of the larger wizard on her and rolled him off to look him in the eye.

“Well, you promised.” He slurred, it came out more ‘weeeeeleee phew prewmized’, which confirmed Severus’ suspicion that he was in fact a moron.

“You’re drunk, Ronald, you might hurt me.” She huffed, trying to pull away from his grabby hands but he grasped her by the hair again and tugged her down.

_ *** Upsetting material, do not read if you are in any way sensitive to non-consent situations. *** _

“You’ll do it.” He pulled up on his knees and began to undo his trousers. Severus had a hard time turning away, no matter how much he wanted to, and his little bird stomach clenched inside him as he watched the large wizard pull away his trousers and straddle her chest. He felt sick when the boy- and he was a boy- jam his cock into her mouth and down her throat. She gagged, squealed, made a retching noise, and then went limp.

Weasley buried his fingers in her hair and tugged her head up, fucking her face with a ferocity that made Severus feel doubly sick. Yes, he was a prick, yes, he used women for their bodies. This though, this was something he could never do.

He’d watched Death Eaters do things like this though, not troubled boys who obviously needed help coping with their problems.

No, this was something deep.

She was crying when he rolled away from her, sated, and began to snore. The witch, trembling, pulled herself from the bed and walked on shaky legs into the loo, the door closing behind her.

Severus glared at the back of the redhead’s head, his snores breaking across the room as he slept with his robes on but his trousers discarded in the floor.

He’d have his body back eventually, and when he did….


	4. Three :.: Professor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

“So, Professor, what shall we do today?” Severus could hardly believe his ears, she was speaking, her voice slightly hoarse but nothing like he would have expected. She stroked his head and sighed to herself.  
“I suppose we should order some food for you, birdseed is acceptable to crows, isn’t it? Or corn perhaps? I’m not really sure, I would ask someone but I doubt they would know. The market delivers, lucky that, or there would never be food in the house.”

 _Frankly, Granger, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to eat. Worms are pleasant but quite a lot of work._ He grumbled back, annoyed at the itching in his stomach for food.

He wanted to focus on making her see who he was, he wanted to figure out a way to make her understand. He needed to help this witch, after the atrocity he’d witnessed the evening before it was obvious she was in a dire situation.

He’d never felt so compelled to help someone in his life. Not even Potter.

Curse him, and where was Potter? Why wasn’t he here saving his friend? He’d been so keen on saving the world and now he couldn’t even help his best friend escape from the terror that is her husband?

He gave a low caw, his black head shifting from side to side and she lowered her fingers to stroke his chest again, he hopped closer, wanting to give her some kind of comfort.

How could he show her who he was?

He was without his wand, without powers, without arms for Merlin’s sake!

Trying to think rationally when he was still upset was not working and so he hopped over to the window and looked out, eyes set on the grass.

“Oh, yes, I guess I would leave too, if I could.” She sounded sad, gave him a halfhearted smile and his throat constricted.  
“It was nice to have you around for a while, Professor.”

 _I’m not leaving you Granger, I just need to get some air, this house is stifling._ He grumbled, more to make himself feel better than anything else and took off into the air. When he spun in a circle and looked down into the window she was sitting there, watching him fly in circles around the roof of her house, a somber look was settled on her face as she watched him before she gazed out across the street.

The neighbor in the small cottage style home there waved, but she only gave a small nod and looked away from him.

He wondered momentarily if Weasley was jealous as well, it would make sense.

_Bastard._

After a nice long stretch, dropping a payload- he sniggered internally- on a local woman’s head, and finding something to eat he found his way back to the Weasley home.

Granger was gone, and when he flew back into the house he could hear male groans, the door to her bedroom was closed and he swallowed, forcing himself not to peck at it.

He’d be of no use to her dead, he needed to come up with a plan.

The sooner the better.

The door opened less than an hour later, Weasley tottered out, down the stairs, and off to whatever job it was he did and Severus hopped into the room, his talons digging into the plush carpet as he landed before he leapt up into the air and settled on the foot of the bed.

The witch was laying there, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. Asleep, he assumed, as she lay there still and he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and offer her some comfort.

He’d never have thought it could be so torturous not to have arms.

Amber eyes opened, slightly dulled and she pulled herself from the bed. She was nude and, he would have been excited to peruse her body, if there hadn’t been little finger prints on her upper arms, if she weren’t vividly bruised across her ribs.

As it was a low croaking sound came out of him again and her eyes shot to him, giving him a long, dead stare.

 _Oh Granger, what has he done to you?_ In that moment, in those eyes he saw exactly what he was accustomed to seeing in his own, a cold uncaring that reminded him of looking in the mirror, and then it broke and she brushed the ratty hair from her shoulder, flinging it to her back.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. There are some things wives are expected to do.” She padded toward the loo and he flew up to land on her shoulder, careful to keep his sharp nails from her tender flesh. She didn’t deserve more.  
“I thought you’d left me, you know, they all leave after so long.” She stroked his chest and opened the medicine cabinet above her sink. Inside was deeper than one would expect when looking at the exterior and he had to remind himself this witch had mastered the hidden extension charm remarkably young.

The potions that filled the cabinet really drove home exactly what the witch experienced on a daily basis, what she had to experience to keep such stocks on hand. First she took a pain potion, she followed it closely with a healing draught for the bruises, he was sure.

“I take my contraceptive potions before he comes home. No use taking a risk having another of those running around.” She shut the cabinet and the vials vanished from her hands, he listened intently. He needed to know more.

He was going to figure out how to save her, he was going to help her, as soon as he had his body back. Until then he needed to know as much about her situation as possible.

The more she shared the better. He had a feeling she would shut down as soon as he was a man again, much like his mum had any time someone had offered her their assistance.

Thinking of his mum made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help drawing the parallels. At least this one was making sure a child didn’t end up in the mix, smart woman she was.

“Have you ever wondered why women stay in abusive situations?” She huffed a breath, turning on the water in the shower and he watched, curious, was she going to take him into the shower with her?

Well, he wasn’t a cat, a bit of water might do him some good.

“If you’re not coming in with me you should move now.” She opened the door and stepped in, the water cascading down her front and splashing him and he moved, a bit ruffled, to the basket that held her bath products and watched her closely, certain to keep his gaze above the neck.

She washed her hair before leaning on her arms against the shower wall, her head balanced on them as the water cascaded down her slender back. He couldn’t help but stare at the fine ridges of her shoulder blades, the vivid bumps of her spine.

She wasn’t taking care of herself. Not as she should be.

“I was saying.” She exhaled, her voice barely audible over the rush of water.  
“I never used to understand, why they stayed, why they let men do those things to them, something changes though, it’s something inside you. I love Ron, I love him with all my heart, or at least- I did, I think I still do, but I’m also terrified of him.” She gave a bitter laugh.

“I tried to leave once, believe it or not. He came begging and pleading for me to come back, promised he’d never hurt me again. Ginny didn’t like it but she and Draco told me I was welcome any time I wanted to come back.”

_Merlin…_

“So, I came back, and he beat me to a pulp, I’m almost certain he nearly killed me. He took my wand, threatened to break it in half and then destroy it in fire if I didn’t make the unbreakable vow. What was I supposed to do? I could have gotten a new wand, but he may have killed me trying to keep me here by force.” He couldn’t tell if there were tears streaming down her face as she spoke or if it was the water that flowed down her face alone. He wasn’t hard pressed to believe she was crying.

“He trapped me, I’m here forever, I can never willingly leave him, but anytime I leave it would be willing, even if I was tugged away kicking and screaming by Voldemort,” he winced internally at the name, “it would still be willing because I hate it here.”

He shifted closer to her as she fell silent, her eyes closed, she was shivering in the water and he flapped, covered in water, down to the tap, nudging the handle with his entire body weight it shifted until the water shut off completely and he hopped out, ruffling his feathers and shaking off any excess water.

 _You need to sleep._ He knew she couldn’t hear him, and as he turned to look at her there was a dumbfounded look on her face that almost made him feel pride.

For once he’d stumped the know-it-all.

He tugged at her towel with his sharp beak and she took the hint, grasping the thick material in her fingers and wrapping it around herself before he flew up and landed on her shoulder again.

“Are you someone’s pet?”

 _Humph, I think not, Granger. I am a man not tied down, a man not kept to one singular person._ He paused.  
_But, perhaps I should have been, if I didn’t want to end up a feathered companion for the rest of my wretched life._ He huffed.

He should have found a nice witch, a sweet, intelligent sort like Granger and settled down, kept his cock in the same hole and not slept around.

But where was the fun in that? And there weren’t other witches like Granger, no, there were plenty of pussies he didn’t mind burying himself balls deep in, there were very few witches he would enjoy waking up beside.

And then, there was the factor that he was no catch himself. Sure, they adored him while he was giving them pleasure, they loved to scream his name. They loved the idea of his money, of his fame, but him? No, they only wanted what he came with, they could do without him.

No witch wanted to spend time with him, to settle into a routine, to build a family.

A family…

He shook himself, _a fool’s dream._


	5. Four :.: Long Walk, Short Pier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

“’Mione, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Hermione looked up at her husband, silencing her whispers to the crow who sat perched on her leg and tipped her head at him, brown eyes wide.

“What’s that, Ronald?” She questioned, hoping he wasn’t about to bring his buddies round for another party, they were raucous in the best of situations, downright destructive on a normal day.

“I was just thinking, I think you need a baby.” He put his hand on hers and she flinched, attempted not to wince away from him and she wrinkled her nose.

“Why on earth would you think that?” She kept the panic out of her voice, but only barely.

No, no, no, he couldn’t make her do that, she wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t!

“I just remember, mum was always happier when she had a little one running around, I think it would brighten your days, and y’know, make us stronger as a family.” He was looking right into her eyes and she forced herself to look away, swallowing. Professor jumped up onto her shoulder, his head nearly flush with the side of hers.

Sometimes she got the impression he was more intelligent than the average crow, he seemed to be quite attuned to her emotions.

It was nice, just that little bit of support.

 _He’s a bloody bird._ She sighed to herself, she needed to stop assigning him a personality, she knew that.

Still she couldn’t seem to stop herself. A true sign of how desperate she was for companionship.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ron.” She managed, her voice quiet, trying not to be perceived as a threat, if she tread lightly she could avoid his rage.

After all he really was a nice guy, somewhere deep down inside, it was her, she made him angry, she made him lash out.

If she acted just so he wouldn’t. She just needed to control her own emotions, that way he could control his.

“Why not?” His voice was flat, he pulled his hand back from hers and an annoyed smile painted its way across his face. A look that was somewhere between menace and kindness.

Now was when she had to be careful.

 _Who am I kidding, I always have to be careful._ She cleared her throat and caught his gaze, her hand coming up to cup his cheek affectionately.

“I don’t think we’re ready for that yet, I still want you to myself, besides, won’t you be jealous of a baby, they require a lot of time.” _Shite, shite, shite…_ She wanted to reel the words back in, suck them back into her mouth and never speak them.

She’d just screwed up- royally.

“What’sat supposed to mean, ‘Mione?” He stood, tone dangerous and Professor- very wisely- flew from her shoulder to the back of the sofa she sat on, his usual croaking call jumping from his small body as he went.

She’d only had him for a few days and she couldn’t imagine not having him in the house.

Ron had even insisted she send Crookshanks to live with someone else, Harry, Ginny, and Draco had been more than happy to take him in.

He was jealous of the cat; how could he possibly think a baby would make him any less angry?

She was lucky he’d not lashed out at her feathered friend yet. Again, he seemed to know just what to do, and when, to keep himself alive.

Hermione pulled back into the sofa, her eyes closing against the onslaught of tears that threatened to spill. It only made him angrier when she cried, it didn’t help things.

“I only meant I thought you’d like to be together alone for a bit longer. A baby would just get in the way, and be messy. I know how much you dislike mess.” He grabbed her hair and tugged her head back, forcing her watering eyes open to lock on his.

“I want you to have a baby, and that’s the end of it, dump your contraceptive potions.” He dipped and kissed her on the head, releasing her hair.  
“Besides, I know you’ll make time for me, and keep the mess cleaned up. Now, what’s for dinner?”

She wet her lips, her face turned away from him as he settled back into his chair. She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice from teetering over into the emotional and glanced to the fireplace.

“I’ll go sort that now.” She managed before she scurried from the room. Professor landed on her shoulder and she subconsciously stroked his chest, her eyes blank on the oven in front of her.

“I hate him, Professor, I’m not having a baby, either. Over my dead body will I be a human incubator for that wretched bastard.” She paused, pulling a pan from the cabinet and turning to the cooled cabinet, she tugged out something, even she wasn’t sure what, and plopped it onto the counter, staring without really seeing as she leant against the wood of the cabinets opposite her.

“No, he can take- as my father always said, a long walk off a short pier, if he thinks I’m going to do something like that he is out of his gourd, off his rocker, officially the biggest dunderhead of the bunch.” She could’ve sworn Professor’s caw sounded more like a cackle when he emitted the strange sound by her head.

He pecked at her hand and she turned to look at him, catching one of his eyes from the corner of her own.

“Want to know why I call you Professor?” She questioned, not caring anymore at all that she was talking to a bird. Right now he was her only friend and she would cling to that.  
“You remind me of a Professor I had in school, he was stubborn, which you’ve certainly exhibited, and aside from always being swathed in black I never really thought calling him a bat was the proper nickname, to me he was more like a bird of prey. He swooped in when no one expected him to exact rather painful punishments, he was sharp and biting with his sarcasm, his wit was dry, more often than not cruel. I think it suits you rather well, though if I called you Snape Ronald would have lost his mind.

“That’s another reason I suppose, Ron hated him. With a fire I’ve never seen before he hated him. It was funny really, you’d think he was jealous of him, and I guess he kind of was. I just thought it was funny, if he’d put half the energy into the classwork as he did to hating the teacher I’m certain he would have done quite well.”

She exhaled, stroking the bird’s chest again before she turned back to what she’d placed on the counter and gave a wild peel of laughter. In her daze, not paying attention, she’d placed a tub of butter in the pan. That was it, only butter.

“What’re you laughing at in here?” Ron poked his head in and she dried her eyes, staring at the butter.

“I’m afraid you’re having butter for dinner tonight, Ron.” She laughed again, snorting in her attempts to control it. He gave her a goofy smile and cocked an eyebrow at the butter.

“I think not, now get to it, I want to start working on that baby.” He winked at her and sauntered away. She slapped her palm to her forehead.

“Every time I think he may still be a decent person in there…” She trailed, realized he was staring at her, and paled.

“What was that, again?”

“Nothing.” She squeaked, and heaved a breath, chewing her lip. Professor gave a croaking caw and hopped onto the counter.

“No, I think I want to know what you have to say, ‘Mione.” He sounded calm, Hermione closed her eyes, steeling herself. She really needed to learn to control her mouth.

“I really think you need help Ronald, you’re getting worse, you get mad more and more.” She managed to bite out, well, if she was going down she was going to speak her mind.

Hell, if he killed her at least he couldn’t force her to procreate.

“I think you just need to learn when to keep your damn mouth shut.” He slammed his hand into the counter beside her, Professor hopped out of the way just in time and she flinched, her body drawing up.

“Calm down, Ron.” She tried, her tone soothing as he loomed over her, blue eyes burning into her. Her very bones quaked, she knew what could happen if she made him angry, and her wand was upstairs.

“What will you do, Hermione? Do you think you can stop me? Hmm, or this bird?” He growled, trying to grab Professor who leapt rather skillfully out of his range.

“No Ron, no one is going to do anything to you. You’re not sleeping again, are you?”

“How would you know, you don’t care enough to stay awake.” She chewed her lip at his cold tone and heaved a breath, leaning back as far into the cabinets as possible. His red hair had flopped into his eyes, she didn’t want to brush it away, she didn’t want to touch him, didn’t want him to touch her.

No, she’d been doing battle with herself for so long over whether she loved him or not anymore.

Didn’t that qualify as not loving someone? Not wanting to touch them, to be touched by them?

She just wanted to go.

Damn her for not just letting him kill her.

“Ron please, calm down, go take a shower, I’ll cook dinner and you can get some sleep, you’re tired. The nightmares, I know they make it hard.” She tried to coax, her hand hesitantly coming up to cup his cheek. He grasped her wrist harshly in his fingers, his grip bruising as he held her hand away from his face.

“Don’t touch me, don’t try to calm me down. I hate you sometimes, you know that? You mope around here, acting all miserable like I don’t give you the world! I offer to give you a child and you practically laugh in my face! I keep you here, safe, I take care of you, and all I ask is for a little loyalty! You give me none!” His other hand came up, the echoing sound of a slap and her gasp of breath dancing in the otherwise silent kitchen.

She stood, her hand and wrist crushed in his, her head turned to the side and her eyes closed.

“I’m going out.” He tossed her hand down and turned around, walking away from her. She didn’t move until the door slammed behind him, only then did she sink to the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest.

Professor was there, on the floor, staring at her as she sobbed into her knees.


	6. Five :.: Making it Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Severus knew what he had to do, much as he didn’t want to he needed to leave the Weasley house, if only for a few days, and atone for his sins with the witch who’d changed him.

It was obvious Granger had too much on her plate, too much weighing on her shoulders, if he could even get her to understand who he was, she wouldn’t be able to help him. She wasn’t even allowed to leave her house.

He seethed at the idea of it all, the things he’d seen. He was going to set it to rights though, if he had to go to Azkaban for killing the ginger bastard he would make it right.

He would help her, he hadn’t been able to help his mum, he wouldn’t watch another brilliant witch waste away under the fist of drunk bastard. Being pissed, having nightmares, not sleeping- these were not excuses for abusing one’s wife.

No, there was no excuse for abusing a woman, for laying a hand on her, for- he couldn’t even think about the act, it made him shudder.

He would find the witch who’d changed him, Genevieve, and he would make it right with her, surely if she was the one who performed the spell she knew how to reverse it.

He could only hope she could hear him when he talked to her, otherwise it was all for naught and he may be trapped as a bird forever, unable to ever help his sweet little witch.

One week and two days and she’d become his witch in his mind, that was all it had taken for her to begin winning his cold, black heart.

Merlin, he was an idiot. As if she’d ever want to be anywhere near him, he’d been so cruel to her as a youth. He’d slept with anything with a hole for the better part of the last year whilst she’d been suffering at the hands of a, rather voracious, abuser. No, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him, no matter how badly he wanted to hold her in his arms and take her pain away.

And he wouldn’t ever make her feel forced, to feel like she had to do anything- ever.

He was getting ahead of himself, however, no matter how he knew he could love her better than the prick. No matter how attached he’d grown to her, through their days spent together, their conversations, one sided as they may be.

He would stay one more day and then he would go, one more day with her and then he would sort things out with Genevieve. Hell, he’d marry her and give her all his money and his name if she’d change him back so that he could help Granger.

Not that he was going to just come out with that offer. Of course, he wouldn’t he was no fool, and he needed to keep that on the backburner, just in case he needed it.

He was settled on Grangers shoulder, her hair like a cloak around him, his own sweet nest, as she hummed to herself. She’d been reading but she’d gotten distracted, as she always seemed to, and had gone from talking to him to humming. He found he enjoyed the soft sound, her voice was not at all perfect, but there was something soothing about it, the way she hummed and moved her head, as if she didn’t have so much weighing her down.

He admired her for that.

He needed to help her stop it all before she became just a shell of what she was.

Severus stared down at the sleeping witch, his breathing shallow as he thought about leaving her alone with Ron Weasley. He needed to though, he had to do this if he was going to help her.

He leapt from the bed, looking back one more time, a longing in his very bones to stay with her.

_I’ll be back for you, I swear it._

And he meant it, he would help her find a way around the unbreakable vow she’d made. He would come back for her, he would help her. He had to, she hadn’t survived the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters, Bellatrix bloody Lestrange- so she could waste away in this house.

He left through her bedroom window, as usual left open so he could come and go as he pleased. He knew she would miss him, she often referred to him as her only friend. He would come back soon, as a person, and he would be her friend then.

He would be whatever she needed him to be.

Perhaps he had a complex? A strange attraction to muggleborn witches.

It was unhealthy, whatever it was, it made him fixate.

As he flew into the night sky he pondered on that, why he seemed to latch onto someone and fixate on them so intensely. He was, as he’d always been, and intense individual, it made for perfect stalker material, as he’d proven time and again.

He tried to shake off the thoughts, flying through the night until the morning sun broke on the horizon.

Her house was just there and when he landed on her window sill he was pleased to see she was wrapped around a completely different wizard.

He tapped at the glass with his beak, certain to be entirely obnoxious as he did so, and gave a few low croaking sounds before he cawed loudly.

The man threw the blankets over his head and Genevieve pried herself from the bed, giving him a dirty look and flinging the window open, forcing him to jump away and land again.

“What do you want?” She hissed. “Shouldn’t you be off making baby birds by now?” She looked annoyed, and tired, and there was a ring on her finger.

A week.

He would have deadpanned, if he had a face.

It had taken her little more than a week to find another man to bed, then wed.

_You need to undo this._

She glared right into his eyes.

 **I don’t need to undo anything.** She scoffed internally and he could have breathed a sigh of relief.

In fact, he may have.

_Genevieve…_

**Surprise, surprise you remember my name.** She cut him off in a hiss and he wanted to roll his eyes.

 _I need you to take me seriously for a moment, if you would, witch. I see you have found a husband and I have no desire to prolong this conversation more than necessary. May I come in?_ He called on his best manners, his tone the usual flat he had used when speaking to the Dark Lord.

 **If you insist, you must be desperate if you’ve come crawling- cawing- back to me.** She cackled a laugh out loud and he would have flinched if he could, instead he hopped in when she moved to the side and settled on the bed beside her husband, who snored rather loudly.

 _Yes, you are quite funny aren’t you, must be one of your charms._ He bit annoyed and heaved a breath, his little bird chest expanding and contracting. _I need my wand, and more importantly my form back, dear Genevieve. I understand that I was wrong to use you, to use all of the women I’ve taken to bed as I have._

 _You see, I have found a former student, who I’d thought may be able to help me, in a rather dangerous situation. I need to help her._ He hadn’t planned to pour his heart out, but, well, the way her eyes were sparkling he was hoping it would work.

**Well, go on then, what is this danger she is in?**

_Are you an able legilimens, I assume being able to speak with me mentally means you have at least some skills as far as mental magic are concerned. Quite a talented witch, I must admit._ Yes, stroke her ego some, give her something to cling to.

 **Open your mind, you’re a veritable lock box, I’m afraid.** That made him ruffle with pride and he cleared his throat, his black eyes flicking around as he tried to remember how not to block someone.

He felt it the moment she entered his mind, he guided her, rather smoothly, to his memory of the night he’d arrived in the Weasley house.

The witch tore from his mind, turned and wretched, her face quite green as her husband sat up in the bed and gave her a long look before going back to sleep. Obviously sleeping off a hangover.

“My goddess! Something so wretched, that bastard! How dare he!?”

What was the saying again, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? He believed he’d found something to make a witch forget that fury.

And focus on an entirely new fury altogether.

 _You will change me back then? Please, I implore you, and this is not something I typically do, begging is hardly my style. I need to help her, I’ve seen such atrocities, I’m a changed man, you have my word, on my honor._ The witch flicked her wand to clean up her mess and gave him a long look.

She stood, striding rather dizzily to a chest of drawers and opened the top. From there she pulled his wand and he gave the extension of himself a longing look.

“You will never come back here again, do you understand me? I never want to see you, I never want to hear from you. Save her, and then go on your way and, I swear, if I discover by some unmerciful goddess that you have been sticking that prick in every hole you find again, destroying women in your wake I will change you again, and you will never escape my wrath.” She hissed, her eyes flicking to her lover in the bed who stirred, grunted, and then began to snore again.

_I assure you madam, I have only eyes for one, and she is in dire need of help._

“Good.” She tossed the wand on the floor and he jumped down to it, looking up at her with skeptical eyes.  
“Chances are you will be able to assume this form by will after this, you should try it, but not here.” She muttered an incantation, waved her wand in a pattern like nothing he’d seen before he was suddenly, and very blessedly a man again, standing taller than the witch.

“I could hug you, I am so pleased.” He breathed, his voice as low as possible and she shook her head.

“You’re leaving is all the thanks I need.”

She watched him walk to the door and halted him by clearing her throat.

“Kill that bastard, would you Snape? He deserves it, no pity.”

“I assure you, Madame, he will receive no such thing.” And he strode out the door, flicking his wand to dress himself in his usual attire as he went.

Gods it felt good to be himself again. He would stop soon and test her theory. If he could still turn into the bird it would probably be very useful. Very useful indeed.


	7. Six :.: The Crow Returneth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

It didn’t take Severus long to figure out that if he only concentrated hard enough he could turn back into the form of a crow, and better yet, much like when one took on the form of their animagus when he changed back he was in the same clothes he’d been it.

Which had been a relief, he had to admit. He’d hate to have to redress himself every time he decided to shift to and back.

Very little practice at all was necessary, and when he turned back his wand was still in his possession, in its holster, where it belonged. It was really quite fantastic, it made him wonder why he’d never put forth the effort to have an animagus form in the first place. Useful it was to be able to take to the skies as he could, flying toward the Weasley house, it was a much lighter experience now he knew he could be a man as well.

Swooping into the open window -- he’d only been gone a total of two days and he’d hoped she’d leave the window open for him. He wasn’t disappointed, blessedly she’d left that window open, whether for him or not he swept in and searched the house for her.

He found her curled on the sofa, her hair was pulled up in a high bun and he could see the swell of her eye as soon as he landed. It burned a new kind of rage through him, now he could take his usual form- but he wouldn’t.

No, he needed to do this carefully, he needed to do it right the first time, there wouldn’t be a second chance.

He gave a low caw that drew her attention and those beautiful amber eyes turned to him, a smile lighting her face despite her split lip.

“Oh! I thought you’d left me forever, Professor!” She beamed at him and he couldn’t remember her smiling as widely in the week he’d been there. The state of her face worried him, why hadn’t she healed herself.  
“I missed you very much, I thought I’d lost my only friend.” She leaned down, picked him up and stroked his chest delicately as he perched on her forearm, too large to be held in her hand, it weighed it down.

He noticed her hand was swollen, the colors still distorted and she gave it a somber look.

“Yes that, well, you see…” She exhaled, her eyes closing and she leaned back, he worked his way up onto her shoulder, missing the nest of her hair.  
“Apparently he was angry enough that my wand is officially kindling, shame that, it survived the war, it survived so much. Luckily, I still have Bellatrix’s wand, believe it or not, guess it was sort of a trophy for me.” She chuckled, shook her head, and looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“I don’t know why I talk to you like you know what I’m talking about, like you understand.” She shook her head, a distant look in her eyes.  
“Regardless, I keep it hidden, and I can’t heal myself, not if I want to keep that wand, it’s loyal to me, I disarmed her, he’ll only burn it if I get it out though. Anyway, he burned my wand because I wouldn’t dump the contraceptive potions. See, I told you, over my dead body.” She stroked his head with her uninjured hand and he wanted so badly to turn back into himself and draw her into his arms, to heal her, and protect her.

“Well, he’s gone for a week, he has an out of town tourney, apparently his team is doing well this season. Probably because he’s benched.” She scoffed and stroked his head again.  
“Attacking the other team’s seeker isn’t a good idea, apparently.” She laughed and pressed her head against his side, sighing.

“I missed you, I thought you’d left me forever, I was quite lonely for two days, you know. You shouldn’t leave a witch like that.” She turned her head to look at him, he pulled at a loose curl and she smiled at him again.  
“I swear, you have so much personality. I’d swear you were a person, for all you do.” She yawned, stretched her arms up over her head, and winced at the motion of her wrist.

 _You should be sleeping, witch, not talking to me, you need your rest to heal._ He scolded internally and watched as she yawned again. He flew down, landing on the floor and hopped toward the stairs, looking from her to the stairs. She gave him a strange look and he cawed.

Rolling her eyes, she stood.

“You sure are pushy for a bird, you know that.” She followed him up the stairs and he landed on her bed, pulling the cover back bit by bit with his beak and giving her a long look.

“Very pushy for a bird.” She muttered but crawled into the bed none the less, he perched on her headboard, above her and watched her face as she drifted to sleep.

Sleep seemed to come much more easily to her, now Weasley was gone for the week and he was glad for it, he could figure out a way to ease her into the idea of him coming around over the course of that week without getting her injured by Weasley.

When he was certain she was asleep he hopped into the floor, changing back into the man and staring down at the witch. It felt strange, being in her room, larger than he’d ever been, taller than all of the furniture. Looking down at her he realized he was so much larger than she was as well. So slight, she’d always been a small girl, with sweet little curves that no longer showed. She was starving herself, he knew that, it was as if she was just waiting to waste away.

He, very gently, with a delicate finger brushed the hair away from her cheek and took a deep breath, watching her smile in her sleep. Her split lip looked painful and he wanted nothing more than to heal it.

Actually, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into the bed with her and cradle her to him, hold her and reassure her everything would be okay.

 _I’m here now, you’ll be okay._ He thought to himself, his hand stroking her cheek so delicately again, careful not to wake her. Shifting back into a bird he flew up and settled himself in the curve she created at her stomach, where her knees bent and her back bowed her into a curved shape.

A hand stroked him, he believed subconsciously, and he finally found sleep himself, relieved to be back at his witch’s side.

Even if she never knew she was his, she was, and he would regard her as such for as long as he lived.

It only seemed fitting, he’d fixated on Lily for the first nearly forty years of his life, he could fixate on this one for the rest of it.

 Severus rang the doorbell, his robes straight and shoulders squared as he stared at the wooden barrier. There was a squeak of surprise followed by the shuffle of Hermione before the door opened and she stood before him, gaping.

He’d waited for her to be awake from her nap before he’d taken back off out the window, changing back into himself and apparating to Malfoy Manor.

It had been easy to talk to Ginevra, Harry, and Draco, strange companions that they were, and make them understand his plans and everything that was going on with Hermione Granger-Weasley.

“P-Professor!” She looked stunned, her un-swollen amber eye wide while the other just opened enough for him to see a peek of amber and deep red.

“Merlin, Ms. Granger, it is as dire as they claimed then.” He breathed, happy to finally be able to speak with her and she immediately covered her eye with her uninjured hand, his eyes narrowed when she pushed the door closed further.

“No-nothing is wrong, everything is fine, nothing dire here. Thank you for visiting.” She tried to shut the door but his hand easily caught the wood and she made a whimpering sound. It was not his intention to frighten her, he needed to earn her trust however, and the best way to do this was to speak to her as a man, not hover around her as a bird.

“Ms. Granger, Hermione…” He trailed and she gave him a look, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. “My Godson and his, spouses,” he wrinkled his nose, strange group that, “they’ve asked that I come to check in on you. I thought it best they came but they claim that you do not speak with them at all.” He insinuated himself into the doorway, a leg inside now so that she definitely couldn’t shut it on him.

“I’m fine, really, nothing wrong at all. Send them my regards.” She was looking anywhere but at his face and he heaved a deep breath.

“At least let me heal that eye, dear girl. Perhaps give a tired wizard some reprieve before you shoo him away?” He cocked an eyebrow at her and she backed up, giving him a long, speculative look.

He supposed she assessed no danger from him because she nodded and opened the door the rest of the way.

“Come in then, Professor.” She turned, he hated the way she kept her body small, all drawn up. He wanted to touch her, to reach out and offer comfort, but he didn’t want to frighten her.

Merlin, this was going to be harder than he’d thought. She was so relaxed around him as a bird, he could almost forget the way she drew in on herself around Weasley. He should have known she would do the same with other men.

“And where is your husband?” He questioned as she led him in, of course, he knew the git was gone, she didn’t know he knew however.

“A quidditch tourney, you have perfect timing, if he’d been here he would have slammed the door in your face, tea?” She questioned as he sat on her sofa, the one she typically occupied. He was surprised when she sat beside him, her knees turned toward him and her torso as far from him as possible.

“No thank you, you’ll let me heal this, won’t you?” He questioned, reaching for his wand, she gave him a long look, he could see that fire in her, in the depths of that one open eye, the one that wanted to be a prideful- powerful witch, the powerful witch he knew she was.

Gods he hated what the boy had reduced her to.

She swallowed, raising her bruised hand and wrist as well, it was grotesquely swollen and he closed his eyes for a moment against the onslaught of rage.

“Will you take care of this as well, and then tea, I don’t suppose you’ll be leaving without answers.” She was staring at her knees when he opened his eyes again and he brought his wand out the rest of the way, catching her chin with a slow motion.

She flinched but didn’t pull away when he lifted her face to look up at him a murmured a healing spell, the swelling immediately dissipated. While there was still some bruising left it looked so much better than it had moments before and it was a relief to him when that amber eye fluttered open and he could see both.

Her eyes had always been so expressive, it was a tragedy not being able to look into them.

Silly Gryffindors, always wearing their hearts on their sleeves.

“No, I’m afraid not.” Certain to keep his voice soft, and he smirked at her flush before he dropped his hand from her chin, moving on to heal her hand and wrist.

“I’d thought not.” But when she looked up at him again she was smiling, however faintly, however forcedly, it was something.


	8. Seven :.: Headway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Hermione’s posture relaxed the longer he sat with her and soon she was leant back into her sofa, smiling at him and talking as if she’d never acted quite so frightened to begin with.

There was still that cautious edge, the look in her eyes that told him not to come to close, not to expect much more than a friendly chat. It would do, however, he considered it headway, he had never been the most social of wizards after all.

It made him feel lighter than when he flew that he could make her relax as such.

She pulled her legs up beneath her and leaned forward, putting a hand on his and giving him a relaxed smile.

“Thank you, for coming to check on me, it’s been so long since I’ve had another person to talk to, it feels very good to feel human again.” She admitted, and then her eyes flicked away and she withdrew, stood and walked around behind the chair her husband typically occupied. Her fingers fidgeted with a small wool blanket draped over the back. Slender digits that held his attention for a short moment before he looked back to her almost pained face.

He knew what was coming, she’d gone too far for her own comfort and now she was pulling away from him, he’d have to let her, if he didn’t want her to feel pressured, still, it hurt him somewhere deep to let it happen. She’d touched him. Him! As if it was the most casual thing in the world.

She heaved a deep breath, wrapping her arms around herself and letting those wild curls that it seemed she would always sport fall into her face.

“It’s probably time for you to go, travelling at night is still dangerous from what I understand.” He furrowed his brow, what?

“Wherever did you get that impression, Ms. Granger?” Wide amber eyes shot up to his, deep pools of confusion and she furrowed her own brow.

“Well, Ron says that they haven’t managed to catch all of the death eaters yet- I just assumed with them knowing you are a traitor…” She trailed, blinking a few times, he could tell tears were stinging at her eyes and he stood. One step towards her, she took a step back and he stopped, shoulders squared.

“The last of them received the Dementor’s kiss more than five months ago.” She winced and he ground his teeth together.

That boy would stop at nothing to keep her locked in her cage, wouldn’t he?  
He hadn’t realized the bastard had made her scared to even leave the house. What the hell was the bloody idiot thinking?

“Oh.” She looked dizzy and sought the support of the wall, leaning against it and taking what he assumed were meant to be deep, calming breaths.  
“Of course, silly of me, I must have misunderstood.” His teeth ground together hard enough to hurt and he had to force himself to stop before he broke his own jaw. His hands were clenched at his sides but blessedly hidden by his robes.

“Thank you, for the tea.” He managed to keep his tone even, his years hiding his emotions coming to the fore, he needed to call on that particular ability now. It was what made him such a powerful Occlumens, it was what saved him from death on numerous occasions, and it was what he would use now to keep from frightening the witch with his own rage.

Anger that he would never, _never_ take out on her. She had no way of knowing that though, did she? He needed to go before he tried to take her away. It was time and he was running low on patience for the Weasley git’s antics.

“It was really no problem, I’ll see you out.” She flushed, coming back to herself and walked ahead of him to the door, careful to keep her distance, he noticed. She opened the door for him and he stepped out, turning to give her a long look as she hid half behind the closing door from him.

“I would like to call on you again tomorrow, if that suits you? I haven’t had intellectual conversation in such a long time, since leaving my position as Professor, and I quite enjoyed your company.” She flushed a bit and gave a little nod, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the door. Those fingers seemed to be a point of fixation for him, he wanted to hold them, to see if they were as cold as they looked. He wouldn’t mind to warm them for her.

 _Merlin man, you’ve got it bad._ He chastised himself.

“Ron isn’t back until the fifth, I see no reason that you can’t visit at least one more time. I enjoyed the conversation as well.” She made to shut the door and he turned to walk away, she stilled him by clearing her throat.  
“When, um, when did you stop teaching?” She questioned and he turned back to her, her face full of open curiosity.

“I never returned after the war, it seemed time to move on with my life, or- perhaps to start it.” He choked down a bitter laugh. Moving from witch to witch was certainly not his idea of beginning his life, but, it had been his intention to do just that, to begin the life he would have lived had there been no Dark Lord, no chosen one to protect.

“I see, I suppose I should stop calling you Professor then, um…” She wet her lips and furrowed her brow as if in thought, he barely managed to tear his gaze from those lips, the bottom was still split, but looked to be healing nicely. “Sir?”

“Severus, would be acceptable if you feel we are friendly enough for first names.” Her eyes lit and she perked a little, looking excited at the prospect.

“You would consider me your friend?” Gods it took everything in him not to stride up to her and tell her all the things he wanted her to be to him.

 _Not the time, start slow, pace yourself._ He wasn’t going to cock this up.

“I think it certainly may be in the cards, Hermione.” He smirked at the dazed look on her face and she gave a little nod.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Severus.” He nodded and watched as she closed the door, he heard a little giggle break her chest through the thick wood and a genuine smile tugged at his lips.

This was worth every bit of difficulty it was proving it would cause him.

“And just where were you, mister?” Hermione greeted him when he flew into her window an hour later. She was sitting on her bed, a book open in her lap and the flicker of candlelight flickering across her face.

She looked more relaxed than he’d seen her in quite some time and he just hoped that he could credit at least some of that relaxed posture to himself. He sidled up beside her, landing on the bed and scooting until his side was up against hers.

She smiled down at him and stroked a hand down his head and back, her soft amber eyes still half-focused on her book.

“Well, I suppose I can’t expect you to stay cooped up in here all day, I certainly don’t like it so I’m sure you like it even less.” She muttered thoughtfully and settled a thick piece of shiny silver ribbon in her book, closing it with a dull thud.

“We had company though, it would have been nice for you to meet your namesake. I’m sure he would have liked you, he seems to still favor all things dark.” He looked up at her to see a shy smile on her face and he had to fight the urge to puff his chest out.

Yes, he made that look come across her face.

Him.

 _If only you knew, Granger._ He chuckled to himself but kept still, the soft strokes of her hand against his feathers soothing him as he sat at her side.

She was so gentle, so sweet and affectionate. How anyone could hurt her was beyond him.

Of course, he knew she could be brash, she could be every bit the Gryffindor, but her kindness was so overwhelming, it overshadowed that tinge of bossy brat that she must have carried into adulthood.

 He knew it was there, she’d made so many comments on the days he sat and watched her writing out letters dictated by the Minister of Magic. Saying what he could do better, what an idiot he was for not changing this or that.

He’d smirked internally every time, she was a very well polished, refined version of that eleven year old know-it-all who had thrust her hand into the air every class, practically dancing for the attention of anyone who would give it to her. Her intellect was not something to be stifled like this, it needed to be fostered, to be given room to grow, to flourish.

“I really enjoyed seeing him today, you know.” She spoke, shaking him from his thoughts and he ruffled a bit, earning a giggle from the witch.  
“It was nice, I mean, I like spending time with you and all of that, but he was different. He wasn’t mean like he used to be, not once did he insult me for my choices or belittle me for staying with Ron, even when I know it’s obvious what happens.” She heaved a sigh and he pecked at her leg with his beak, earning a squeal.

“Oh fine, I know, I agreed we weren’t thinking about it whilst he’s gone, you’re right.” She stroked his head again and flipped her book back open, diving back into the pages in front of her. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall asleep, comfortable, and surrounded by his Hermione.


	9. Eight :.: Baby Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

“I assure you, Hermione, nothing is going to happen to you if you accompany me to Hogsmeade.” Severus said, he’d been trying to get the witch out of her house for the last hour or so and was failing miserably, he was ready to give up on this particular endeavor. In fact, saying this was his last shot at getting her out of the house, he would simply have to settle for staying in with her.  
“I had hoped to have the Malfoy trio meet us for butterbeers.” He tried to persuade and she shook her head, still standing nearly a mile away from him, as if he would grab her and force her to leave.

“I can’t, if someone Ron knows sees me…” She heaved a breath, her eyes on the floor.  
“You have to know what’s going on here, I know you’re not fool, Severus. I can’t leave, I just can’t.”

He allowed his mouth to pull down into a frown and took a step towards her, when she didn’t back away he stopped and gave her a long look. She shied away from looking him in the eye and he cleared his throat.

“Come now, Hermione, you have more respect for me than to not look me in the face when we speak, don’t you?” He cocked an eyebrow and her eyes shot up to his face, he stuffed down a triumphant smirk.

“Sorry!” She squeaked and he frowned again, holding her gaze.

“You never have to apologize to me.” He kept his tone even, aware that if he controlled the deep baritone of his voice he could lull her into a much calmer state. A theory he’d come up with and tested at random throughout the course of the day.

Of course, he knew the effect his voice had on women, it was one of his few charms, the ugliest faces, the loveliest voices, his grandmother Prince had always said. And she was right, he may have been cursed with the Prince nose and the Snape figure- all lanky, having to work to keep even the slightest bit of muscle on, but he had the Prince voice, and that voice had gotten him up many skirts.

It also had soothed many crying Slytherin girls when things didn’t go quite their way.

Just as expected her shoulders relaxed and she wet her lips, staring him right in the eye, exactly as she should.

It was a power play, making someone look away from you when they spoke, he was working toward showing her that yes, he may be larger than her, he may be stronger, but he was not her superior.

She was his equal, his Hermione, and he would make her see herself as such.

“Unless of course you do something outwardly cruel.” He cocked an eyebrow and she exhaled.

“I would never!” She shook her head and wet her lips, glancing to the cat faced clock that hung on her wall. He followed her gaze to see that the arm with her Husband’s name was still fixed on Romania.

It occurred to him then.

“He has one for you as well, I assume.” He managed to keep his tone level and her eyes shot back to his face, her posture stiff.

“Yes, he does, if I leave he’ll know immediately. I can barely go into the front yard.” She admitted, her fingers twining to together in front of her. He took a step towards her, again she didn’t back away, he took another, and another, until he was standing just out of reach of her.

“Then perhaps we can have them here?” He raised both eyebrows. “I won’t do anything to have you hurt Hermione, I’d sooner injure myself- and Slytherins have quite the sense of self-preservation.” He smirked at her large eyes, locked, enraptured on his face. Still he didn’t reach out to touch her.

When he visited again tomorrow, perhaps then he could initiate and innocent touch, gauge her reaction. It was as if he had been presented with a new experiment, and new challenges always had thrilled him.

The only difference with this one was the idea that he was playing for keeps, he would do everything in his power to at least- at least- have this witch as a lifelong friend.

“I suppose if they aren’t too busy.” She glanced to the clock again. The hand hadn’t moved, he could have told her that.

“I’ll floo Draco.” He stared down at her for another long moment. “This will be good for you, and if you become too uncomfortable I will happily tell them to leave, okay?”

There went that little pink tongue, flicking out to wet her lips again and he almost groaned, she needed to stop doing that. It was distracting.

“Okay then.”

Harry tried to hug Hermione as soon as he stepped out of the floo, wrapping the witch who’d been his best friend and companion in his arms with little thought to the action. When she whimpered, curling in on herself Severus nudged him by the shoulder away and gave him a long look.

Draco was more cautious, keeping a safe distance from the witch, knowing what was going on in her life and aware that she would be more than jumpy. He’d experienced it with his aunt Bella, though it hadn’t been quite so severe- and it had been Bella who’d been doing the abusing.

Ginny and Hermione however embraced in a long hug, speaking quietly to one another in whispers while Severus looked on, he took Draco and Harry to the side, giving both of them a firm look.

“This is incredibly hard for her, keep your distance, don’t move too quickly and give her some time to adjust to having you around and she will calm considerably.”

“I want to kill him.” Harry muttered, Draco hooked an arm around his shoulder and placed a little kiss to the side of his head. Harry’s fists were clenching and unclenching. Severus looked to the two young women who were just disappearing into the kitchen, talking in whispers to one another.

“I assure you I do as well, Mr. Po- Malfoy?” He cleared his throat, feeling as uncomfortable as he must have looked.  
“Your relationship is incredibly non-traditional, and whilst I am accepting and understanding of what it entails I’m not quite certain I understand it.” He cocked a black eyebrow at the two who shot each other a look.

“It’s fairly simple, uncle. I am seeing both, both are seeing me, and then they see each other as well.” He put emphasis on the word ‘see’ that nearly made Severus flinch.

“I- ahem- see.” He shifted and turned to look at the kitchen doorway again.

“You’ll get used to it, Severus, we were delighted when we discovered the Ministry would allow us to marry, all together. It’s very nice. You can still call me Potter, by the way, if you prefer. I took Malfoy of course, just like Ginny did.”

“I’m sure I will, I am happy for you all, that you found a way to sort out that nasty love triangle you’ve been playing out since fifth year.” He smirked at the pale look on their faces.

“You noticed all that?”

“There were bets, among the teachers. Albus of course lost.” He smirked at their faces and turned to greet Hermione and Ginny as they entered the room, taking the tea tray from them and settling it on the low table in the center of the sitting room.

Hermione sat between himself and Ginny, opposite Harry and Draco who Hermione had asked Severus to transfigure a sofa for.

Conversation was stilted at first, the way it shouldn’t have been between such old friends but so many things had drawn them apart that he completely understood their need to settle into each other’s presence again. He threw out topics, every so often, to keep the conversation from dying completely and laughed internally at the bickering of the Malfoy trio over who was the dominant one in the relationship.

He was almost certain it was petite little Ginevra Weasley, the way she maneuvered them very smoothly away from the topics she didn’t enjoy.

As it always does, the conversation managed to pick up and soon they were reliving their school days, all four laughing heartily at the antics their younger selves had gotten up to.

“Do you remember, when Hermione would hide the socks all over the tower? The elves wouldn’t clean at all!” Harry laughed, wiping at his eyes, Draco shot her a horrified look.

“You didn’t?”

The wild haired witch nodded sheepishly, her eyes on her hands.

“I thought- well- I thought they couldn’t possibly enjoy living in servitude, they were treated like slaves, it’s all really quite barbaric.” She huffed and Ginny shook her head.

“You thought, you know now though.” She rubbed her friend’s shoulder and earned a broad smile.

Quite suddenly, in the middle of their conversation the front door opened and there was the sound of what could only be a heavy bag slamming onto the floor. Hermione’s eyes shot to the clock on the wall and she turned the palest shade of white Severus had ever seen.

“What’s this then? Having a party whilst I’m away?” The redhead stood in the doorway to the little sitting room, a bright- fake smile on his face as he gazed over his friends.

“Oy, how are you mate?” Harry greeted with a smile of his own, one much more genuine than the one Ron sported.

“I’d be better if there weren’t bloody Slytherins in my house, we lost the tourney.” Hermione was board still her eyes wide and locked on the figure of her husband.

“Sorry mate, too bad that, we were just having a bit of tea and catching up.”

“I’ll bet you were, probably best to go now.” He sneered at Severus who returned the look with one of his own. One that was much more intimidating if the way the redhead shrank was any indication.

“Right, well, we’ll see you later, ‘Mione.” Severus remained behind the rest, giving the witch a long look, he could feel the frustration rolling over his skin, burning him from the inside out.

“It was good to see you, Sir.” She was looking away from everyone and he nodded. Striding out past Weasley and through the front door was the hardest thing he could ever recall having to do. His stomach turned inside him when that door closed behind him. He waited for a moment, walked around the corner, and took on the form of a bird, and returned through the open window immediately.


	10. Nine :.: Suffocate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Hermione couldn’t breathe, her eyes were watering and her chest was constricting but she couldn’t get any air.

Ron was stood above her, a dark glare on his face and his wand pointed at her. He towered over her where she lay on the floor and she hated it.

She hated herself for listening to Severus, she hated that she’d let people into her home, she hated him for coming back early.

She hated everything. Spots were forming before her eyes just as the spell was released and she gasped a breath. She didn’t have the conscious thought to notice anything but the dark blue eyes that stared down at her, unforgiving.

“I’m sorry Ron, I was lonely without you here, I just wanted to have some company.” She rasped out, trying to soothe him, he narrowed his eyes and gave her a long look. She wanted to scramble up out of the floor but she knew better.

She knew better.

She knew better than to do any of it.

Why did she keep making things harder for herself?

“It’s your fault I have to do this, you know? You need to understand that you can’t just do whatever you like, and having those two- snakes- in my house. How dare you?” He bit out, his wand flicking again and her lungs were denied their breath again, she writhed on the floor, her body fighting to breathe but unable to bring in the air.

He could crush her windpipe, if he carried on like this. The spell he was using required too much accuracy, and Ron had never been very accurate with spellwork. She was surprised she was still alive.

She grasped at her throat and cried when he released her again, her bulging eyes locked on him. Her head was swimming.

“Ron, stop, you’re going to kill me.” She pleaded, he pocketed his wand and stepped over to her, dragging her up by her hair and pushing her against the sofa.

“Why’d you do it, huh ‘Mione?” His breath was hot against her ear and she could smell liquor on it, of course, he’d been mad when his team lost, having to leave early. He’d gone and gotten pissed before he’d come home. That must have been what he’d been doing in Romania.  
“Having those bastards in my house, knowing I hate them, you don’t respect me at all.” He snarled, and like that the tone changed and he was licking at her neck, sucking at her skin.

She shuddered, disgusted, at the way his lips drew wet and sticky along her neck and cried out when he pulled her head back further.

“I never know, do I want to snog you, or kill you? I’m so torn, all of the time.” He grunted, flipping her around and shoving her down onto the sofa, following to hover over her.  
“You make me so mad, you do such stupid things. Stupid, you’re so bloody stupid.” He growled, he slapped her, and then kissed her mouth, his tongue forced its way between her lips.

She tasted blood, she was almost certain it was hers, though she couldn’t tell anymore with his mouth locked over hers.

She cried, squirmed under him, tried pushing him back by his shoulders.

He was always rougher with her when he was drunk. She needed to get him off of her.

“Ron please, stop.” She pleaded, pushing at his shoulders as he kissed at her neck.

“You don’t want me anymore? You’re such a bitch, ‘Mione, I give you everything I have and you ask for more. You want me to get help,” he mimicked her in a feminine tone. “I think this is the way you need to be handled, you need to be taught whose boss.”

She whimpered when he bit her neck just a bit too hard and she felt the sharp sting of his teeth breaking her skin, not sharp enough to dull the pain even a little.

“You need me, you need me to show you how you’re supposed to act.” He grunted, his hands fumbling for the button and zip of her jeans, he was trying to get them undone but his drunk fingers were even more clumsy than he usually was and they kept slipping.  
“Help me, or this will be worse than it has to be.” He demanded and she bit her lip, closing her eyes as her hands worked their way between their bodies.

“Stupefy!” A familiar voice called and Ron went limp on top of her, his heavier body crushing her but he was out, like a light, and she was oh-so grateful.

Then there were hands, long slender, potion stained fingers pulling at his robes and tossing him, rather indelicately into the floor and he was looking down at her. His black eyes were filled with nothing but concern and she cried, it was all she could do.

“Hermione, Merlin.” He exhaled, he reached toward her and she flinched, pulling back, she wanted him to hold her, she wanted someone to offer her comfort. She didn’t want to flinch away from him, she knew he wouldn’t strike her, he wouldn’t, would he?

Still, she couldn’t be sure and her body responded. Self-preservation.

She sobbed lying on the couch and he knelt down beside her, she could see his hands hovering, wanting to touch her, but he wouldn’t. She admired his respect for her, really she did.

“H-help me.” She managed, through hiccupping sobs, it didn’t matter he used to be her professor, or that he was a bully, that he’d treated her terribly when she was a student. She trusted him, from deep inside and she wanted help.

She needed someone to help her. She couldn’t do this on her own, not with the unbreakable vow hanging over her head.

He hooked his arms under her and she realized rather abruptly that her shirt was ripped, she didn’t care. She didn’t care about any of it. He pulled her to his chest, sliding up onto the sofa and draping her across him as she cried into his shoulder and he simply held her.

It was the most comforting thing she felt in ages, held in his arms, the strong scent of herbs and potions, and parchment, and something masculine, his soap, perhaps? She sniffled, her eyes burning despite being closed.

His hands were hooked around her middle, nearly spanning her and she felt entirely shielded there, being held by him.

Her husband still lay in the floor, eyes closed.

“How can I help you, sweet Hermione? What can I do for you?” He finally asked when her sobs had died to small whimpers and she buried her face deeper in his neck, his black hair tickled her cheek and she just lay there, unable to speak.

“I can’t leave him, not ever, I’ll die.” She finally managed and he gave a nod.

“I know.” She pulled back, giving him a long look and his black eyes held her gaze.  
“I’d planned to take this at a much slower pace, to offer my assistance at the end of this week, just before the git’s return.” He shot a dangerous glare to Ron on the floor and Hermione wet her lips.

“How do you know, though?”

“Because I am Professor.” She paused for a moment, her fingers buried in his robes before she flushed bright burgundy and buried her face in his neck again.

“You- you are my crow?” She sounded small even to herself, and she wanted to be angry with him, really she did, but- she supposed the lesser evil was his pretending to be a bird.

At least he’d never hurt her.

“I am, I apologize, Hermione. He forced my hand. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t have let him- after what I saw my first night here- I just…” He trailed, she’d never heard him speak quite so inelegantly and she sighed into his chest, her head beneath his chin. She nestled deeper, trying to get closer to his warmth, to the safety he was offering.  
“I couldn’t let him do it to you.”

“I’m his wife, it’s his right.” The low growl in his chest told her he believed otherwise and she paused.

“Your body is not an item to be owned, Hermione. I know you understand this, I don’t know what he’s convinced you- you always have the right to say no, husband or not. If you changed your mind and said no in the middle he should oblige and stop immediately. It is not too much for a woman to expect.” He stroked a hand down the back of her head and she sighed, her breaths coming easier. Her eyes were heavy.  
“And that is all I will say about that. I did not mean to deceive you, I had every intention of gaining your help in changing me back, but- I found that you were quite busy yourself. I want to help you, Hermione, I want desperately to help you.”

She sighed deeply, Ron stirred and she tensed against him, her fingertips biting into his chest, she was sure it had to hurt him but he said nothing.

“Incarcerous.” He cast lazily, tucked his wand away and stood, taking her with him in his arms.

“I will put you in your bed, and then I will transport him to the guest room. We will figure this out in the morning.” He carried her first up the stairs and settled her into the bed.

“Will you stay?” He gave a soft nod, transfigured her bedside table into a chair and then turned to leave the room.

She heard a few strange thuds and then the door to the guest room closed and he dropped Ron’s wand onto the dresser that occupied the far wall of her room. He dropped, heavy limbed into the chair near her head and cleared his throat.

“Sleep.”

“Won’t you be uncomfortable there?” She was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open, she was worried too, however.

“My comfort is not the issue at the moment, sleep, or shall I retrieve you a draught?” She shook her head, her eyes closed. She snaked a hand out from beneath the blanket and found his resting on his knee. She hooked her fingers through his, a bold move she would probably regret in the morning, and finally- blessedly, went to sleep.


	11. Ten :.: Breaking Vows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

 Severus waited, still and patient until he was certain Hermione was very, very deeply asleep. Her hand had gone limp around his and it was easy for him to settle it to her side. He stroked the hair back from her face, fingertips soft on the smooth skin of her cheek, and pulled his wand from its holster.

He needed to deal with the Weasel, now, if he waited until she woke up she may beg he took pity on the wretch, and he would be forced to oblige.

He had no intentions of taking pity on the little bastard.

Slipping from the room he warded the door, heavy wards that would keep even the smallest of insects from entering, and then made his way to the floo.

His home, Prince Manor, given to him when the last of his cousins died, was spotlessly clean thanks to the house elves that puttered about, doing little to nothing even as he swept past them and into his private lab. They were accustomed to his coming and going, aware he rarely wanted to be there, and that he even less wanted to speak to them.

The cold stone of the floor was ignored as he moved to a familiar cabinet and smirked, digging through its contents until he came upon the vial he sought.

His smirk twisted wickedly, his dark eyes flashing as he pocketed the potion and turned, giving the fidgeting house elf in his doorway a long look.

“Ah, Pree, just the elf I had hoped to see, set up the guest bedroom for company. I am unsure when I will return but it will be soon.” He looked down his long nose at her and she nodded with a squeak before vanishing from her spot.

He didn’t know where Hermione would want to go when they finished dealing with her _problem_ , but he would offer his home as an option. An offer he was more than hopeful she would accept.

Leaving, several vials clinking together in his robe pockets he stepped back into the floo and, in a flash of green and spin of discomfort was back in the Weasley living room. His boots made a heavy noise as he stepped from the hearth in the silent house and he made his way more cautiously up the stairs. Hermione needed to sleep, she needed rest, he’d be upset at himself if he interrupted her.

When he entered the room that held one Mister Ronald Weasley he stopped and turned to the doorway, glancing down the hall at the door he’d warded that hid his Hermione he shut the door behind him quietly and turned the lock. A muffling charm and a much less strict ward that would simply alert him to her presence were all he cast on this room before he turned to look at the unconscious redhead on the bed.

He was snoring heavily, his head tossed back, looking the picture of comfort despite the magical ropes that bound him.

It was easy to force the potion down his throat, unconscious as he was.

“Innervate.” He muttered irritably and the redhead’s eyes snapped open, wild and blue as they searched the room.

“Bloody git! I should have known it was you! Where’s my wife?!” He fought against the bindings that- much to Severus’ pleasure tightened every time he squirmed until he was hissing in pain.

“I think you’ll find, Mr. Weasley, that she is no longer yours at all. In fact, I believe you will be quite disappointed to discover she no longer wants anything to do with you.” Severus was standing, his arms crossed behind his back, wand dangling between two fingers, his eyebrow was raised at the prone redhead on the bed, glaring up at him.

“She can’t leave me! She made a vow, she can never leave me.” He smirked, as if he’d won some sort of prize and Severus cleared his throat.

“Yes, well, that is what I am here to discuss with you.” He cleared his throat, inspecting the younger man with dark eyes. He was rattled, no matter how much bluster he displayed.

Severus kept his smirk of pleasure internal.

“You see, before I woke you I took care to have you swallow quite the wonderful potion. It’s a poison of sorts, one of my favorites developed in service to the Dark Lord.” He cocked an eyebrow, the redhead blanched.  
“Would you like for me to carry on?” He still had his arms crossed behind his back as he began to pace, the steady thud of his boots on the floor as he swirled his wand about behind his back.

“You wouldn’t dare, Hermione would hate you forever if you killed me! She loves me!” Severus shook his head, a dark, deep chuckle broke from his lips, short and bitter.

“You would think that, wouldn’t you? I believe however, that nearly killing a woman tends to dampen her star struck ideals about you. If you understand what I mean. You’ve made many mistakes Weasley, I’m offering you a chance to release her from your bonds, and by bonds I mean the vow, and the marriage, with your life intact. Should you refuse my _generous_ offer I will be forced to allow the poison in your system to run its course.” He felt the joy of power course through him. Yes, this was what had drawn him to the Dark Lord’s service in the first place.

The game, the slow, drawn out process of extracting exactly what he wanted from his victim.

He was a true Death Eater by nature, no matter where his loyalty had fallen in the end, with the son of his first love and Dumbledore, who had helped him pick up the pieces in the end. It did not make him a nice man, it did not make him a good wizard.

He’d proven that he was the exact opposite on more than one occasion.

“Wh-what will it do to me?” The redhead finally questioned and Severus ceased his pacing to turn a dark smirk on the boy.

“Yes, I imagine that would be the first question I would ask as well.” He pulled his wand from behind his back and flicked it at a table, transfiguring himself a wingback chair and settling into it. He crossed one long, slender leg of the other and settled in comfortably, observing the redhead.

“Well?” He asked impatiently when Severus only stared for several long minutes and he gave another dark chuckle.

“Patience is not something I possess either, though mine seems to be quite better than yours. I had hoped to give the effects some time to set in. Tell me, do your toes feel numb? Do they tingle, can you feel them at all?” He smirked at the further paling of the Weasley idiot.  
“Yes then, well I suppose I can get on with it.” He hooked his slender fingers over the arms of the chair, tapping them in a sharp rhythm.  
“First your body will shut down, your mind will still be active as you fight to keep breathing. Slowly, very slowly you will suffocate, the poison prevents the shock from forcing you unconscious, you will be awake for the entire process. If you are lucky, you will remain dead, outwardly and inwardly, though I have heard stories of witches and wizards awakening once they were buried, suffering another slow, excruciating death beneath the ground.” He cocked an eyebrow at the pale boy and gave a nod.

“Hermione! Hermione I’m sorry! Hermione help me!” He cried, as loudly as possible, Severus stood and crossed to him in a few short strides. He dragged his finger, rather slowly across the ropes that bound the younger wizard and then pressed that finger to his lips, ‘shh’.

“You’ll not wake her, I’ve ensured she can hear nothing from this room. Now, will you release her from your hold, revoking both your marriage bond and the bond of the unbreakable vow made to you.” Severus held his wand in front of him again.

“No! You won’t get away with this, you’ll go to Azkaban for killing me!” Severus furrowed his brow, dark eyes glimmering in the low light.

“Whatever gave you that impression. Regardless of whether you release her, or you keep her under your hold until you breathe your final breath, she will be with me.” He didn’t miss the spark of jealousy that flashed across the redhead’s face.  
“It will appear as though you’ve died of alcohol poisoning, this is the reason we are unable to use this potion on just anyone, it must be a known alcoholic.” Severus glanced to the window, his eyes locked on the night sky outside for a long moment.

“I’ll release her.” He finally gave a hangdog look to Severus who nodded, holding his wand forward again and freeing one of the boy’s arms.

“Do not cross me, boy, you will never have your antidote if you try anything, even remotely idiotic.” Severus cocked an eyebrow at him as he held his arm into the air. Severus pressed his wand to the exposed symbols on Weasley’s arms, the magical marks of the connections he held with Hermione.

“I, Ronald Weasley, hereby release Hermione Granger-Weasley from all bonds and ties she has to me, I give revoke my name and claim over her body and soul.” He muttered, looking for all the world as if he would rather be anywhere else. Severus smirked at the snapping of the magical markings, the way they faded away to nothing. Weasley hissed at the pain of breaking the bonds and he could hear Hermione whimper from the other room.

Severus recast the binding spell on the boy’s arm and turned to leave the room, dropping the wards and the muffling curse as he went.

“Wait, aren’t you going to give me the antidote?” He cried as Severus was leaving the room, he turned, black eyes flashing at the boy and cocked an eyebrow.

“I will leave that choice to Hermione.” Severus turned, heading to the room that held what must be one severely confused witch.

“Bastard!” Weasley cried from behind him, and he smirked, cloak sweeping along the floor of the hall.

It was a sick sense of satisfaction that filled him at the boy’s chasing call, the desperation in the scream nowhere near penance for the desperation his Hermione had shown him only hours earlier.


	12. Eleven :.: Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

He’d expected Hermione to be upset with him, if he was being honest. Instead, she’d leveled him in her gaze and gave a soft nod when he explained to her how he’d convinced Weasley to release her from their bonds.

When she sighed, and lay her head back against the headboard with her eyes closed he couldn’t help but draw a finger down the side of her face, earning a soft gasp. She didn’t move away however and he, very carefully withdrew his hand to drop it to her own beside her on the bed. He wrapped it in his, unsurprised by how cold her slender little fingers were as he wrapped them up in his.

It took everything in him not to sigh in relief when she simply sat there, allowing him to hold her hand.

“How long does he have?” She asked, her eyes still closed. He focused on her profile, watching first the rise and fall of her chest, then the way her throat contracted when she swallowed, the way her lips were slightly pursed, the way her eyelashes fell on the tops of her soft cheeks.

“Approximately five hours more before he succumbs to the effects of the potion.” He sniffed, his tone bland as he glanced at the doorway, the menace had finally stopped screaming in rage only a few minutes earlier.

“I don’t know that it was exactly a wise choice to leave this up to me.” She bit her lip, her eyes open and focused on her legs stretched out in front of her. Severus reached up with his free hand, tipping her head to face him and caressing the bruise across her cheek with a gentle thumb.

“Hermione, were it up to me he would be suffering right now, dying a so much more painful death than the potion allows him. I did this for you.” She was staring up at him now, amber eyes wide and tearing as she searched his face. If she was looking for even a glimmer of dishonesty she would find none. He found himself entirely devoted to the broken witch, he would do anything for her.

Thinking about it, he’d always known there was something about her that drew him, it was one of the many reasons he’d had to be so cruel to her. As a student she had wowed him on many occasions, showing him that beneath that know-it-all exterior she really was quite intelligent. He’d favored her, in those few occurrences where she displayed her talent without seeking recognition.

And then she’d reached adulthood, put herself into numerous dangerous situations and he’d had to ice his heart to her. He couldn’t love her, not and risk losing her. It was easy to pretend he didn’t care when he was already stretched near breaking by his two very insane masters. The war effort had nearly killed him before Nagini had even had her shot at his throat.

But surviving the war had given him time to think, a chance to understand the things he wanted from life- the things _he_ wanted, not that others wanted for him, not what others wanted from him.

And yes, while he certainly could have acted with a bit more discretion as to the who- or the where- he stuck his prick he wouldn’t have changed all of that either. It led him back to her.

“You really did this, all of it, just for me?” She wet her lips, giving him a long look that caught his breath in his throat.

“Of course, I am a bastard of the highest order, Hermione. I would only do this- only go so far for someone I truly…” He trailed, he couldn’t make himself say it, not yet, he cared for her, gods he did.

He couldn’t tell her yet, couldn’t risk his heart.

Not yet, not when she was still so broken.

“And your choice, witch? Will you let him die, or will you save him? The decision is entirely yours.” He broke his hand away from hers, retrieving the vial and tucking it into her palm, closing her fingers around it. She stared down at it, her eyes distant for a long moment before she looked up at him again.

“I have an idea, will you help me?” She smiled, tilting her head at him and he gave a soft nod, his fingers playing at her knuckles for a moment before he pulled away entirely and drew himself up to his full height.  
“First, I’ll need you to release him from the incarcerous, you’ll stay won’t you? Bella’s wand is not nearly so reliable as mine was.” He cleared his throat but gave another nod.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone with him, especially unbound. I must know, however, what is it you plan to do, Hermione?” She slid her legs over the edge of the bed, still grasping the vial in her hand tightly as she pulled herself to stand. Her body was so close to his it made his insides tremble, the soft warmth and feminine scent of her rolling over him and ensnaring his senses.

It took him a second to realize his eyes had drifted closed at her proximity and he forced them open again.

“He’s going to make an unbreakable vow to me. He will never come near me again and he will seek help for his anger.” Her stare was intense, it was a flicker of the witch he knew she was, of the woman he’d seen her grow in to, bold, powerful, confident.  
“Or he will die.”

Severus nodded, stepping back from her and motioned her out the door before him, he followed her closely, aware that her confident posture shrank further and further as they made their way toward the guest room that held Ronald Weasley.

When they stood just outside the closed door, listening to him talking to himself, cursing both their names, she froze, her eyes closed and her breaths ragged.

He touched her shoulder and she jumped away, squeaking and shrinking against the wall. It tore a new wave of pain through him but he withdrew, keeping his face impassive.

“I won’t let him hurt you, never again.” He said softly and she eased off of the wall, her head falling to stare at her feet.

“I’m sorry Severus, I know you aren’t going to hurt me I just…” He cut her off with a gentle finger to her lips, she winced but held her ground.

“I told you, you never have to apologize to me. I should have made certain you were aware I was going to touch you, I will not make the same mistake again.” The twinkle in her eyes as she stared up at him was sweet and she pulled back, giving him a wide smile.

“You’re the best friend I could have asked for.” He ignored the skewer to his insides and gave a soft nod, motioning to the door.

“Let us be done with this. I’ve arranged a room for you in Prince Manor, or you are welcome with the Malfoys.” Her head whipped back up to look at him and he smirked at the bewildered look on her face.

“Oh, I hadn’t even considered that I will have to leave here.” She breathed, he wanted to touch her, but that word, friend, it echoed through his mind and forced his hands still at his sides.  
“You will let me stay with you? At least, until I can get on my own feet again. I couldn’t imagine being with the Malfoys, they’ve got a houseful already.” She laughed, shaking her head and he gave another nod it seemed the only response he had for her, anymore.

“Yes, now, after you Madame.” He motioned to the door and she swung it open gently. Ron ceased his babbling immediately when the door opened and Hermione stepped in.

“Ah, come to rub it in I see, should have known you’d find a way to ruin what we had, first you wanted Harry and when you couldn’t have him you went after that snaky git.” Severus heard the snide remark before he rounded the corner and caught the boy in a dark gaze.

“I would watch my tongue, boy, if you value your ability to speak.” Hermione glanced between them and he caught her gaze before she nodded to him.

He cast the counter to the incarcerous quickly, annoyed at having to release the git and he only lay there for a long moment, wiggling about before he sat up, dizzily.

The potion was beginning to have an effect on him.

Hermione showed him the antidote and held it, very close to her body, as if afraid despite Severus’ wand on him he would lunge for it.

“So now you have me at a disadvantage, what will you do, ‘Mione?” He growled, Hermione moved closer to Severus, he hooked his arm around her shoulders, instinctively drawing her in closer to him, offering the comfort she so clearly desired.

“I’m going to make you an offer, and I hope, for all our sakes you accept it.” She wet her lips, Severus could still see her from the corner of his eye, though he was more focused on ensuring Weasley did nothing stupid.

“Well, out with it then, bitch.” He sneered out, Severus made a low noise in his chest, a warning.

“I reiterate, watch your tongue boy, or have it taken from your head by force.” Weasley blanched at this and he didn’t miss the way Hermione’s eyes shot up to look at him. He kept his gaze carefully focused on the Weasley boy.

“I want you to make an unbreakable vow.” She raised both brows at the redhead who shot her a nasty glare but said nothing.  
“You will vow never to come near me again, and that you will find psychiatric help for your rage.” She paused, chewing her bottom lip.  
“I do worry for you Ron, and somehow, I’ll always love you- even if that love has changed, significantly.” She managed, sounding sad and small, Severus caressed her shoulder with his hand, an attempt to be encouraging.

“And then you’ll give me the antidote, I have your word?” He bit out, Hermione nodded, confirming what was an unspoken promise on her part.

“Fine then.” He held out his hand, Hermione winced and shrank into Severus’ side, he heaved a breath.

“Perhaps, Hermione, I should be the one he makes the vow to, does this suit you?” She looked up into his face, he was staring down at her, still keeping an eye on Weasley as well.

The boy twitched and he turned a fierce glare on him.

“Do. Not. Move.” He turned back to his witch.

“Okay, you’re less likely to be coerced into releasing him as well. I guess.” She looked between him and Weasley, her teeth in her lower lip.

“Good.” He turned back to Weasley, releasing Hermione from his side, he didn’t miss her slight shiver.  
“Now, your hand.” Severus held his out, passing his wand to Hermione who stared at the object as if it held all the secrets of the universe. He smirked at this.

“Well, I will need you to perform the spell.” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

That made him think, who had performed the spell when Weasley had forced her to make the vow to him? He would need to take care of that person as well. Knowing what the witch was going through and saying nothing- yes, they were as good as guilty.

Hermione held his wand gently, almost reverently above their clasped arms.

“Do you, Ronald Weasley, solemnly swear that you will never come near me, Hermione Granger, again, for as long as we both live?”

“I do.” He grunted, Hermione nodded softly.

“And do you, Ronald Weasley, also swear to find help for your anger, and or any other psychological problems you are suffering within the next month, or face the painful death of breaking an unbreakable vow?” She looked between the two.

“I do.” More a growl this time. Hermione tapped Severus’ wand to them, watching the swirl of magic as it bound Weasley to their will. Severus stepped back, giving the boy a long look.

Hermione caressed the handle of his wand gently before handing it back again and he pulled her into his side again. He wasn’t sure why, he knew she’d clearly stated he was her friend.

Still, he wanted her close to him.

And the way she smiled up at him didn’t deter him.

“I will take you for your own wand tomorrow, I am certain there is another that you will love just as much as your first.” He lay a little kiss to the top of her head and didn’t miss the way she flushed bright red.

“Goodbye, Ronald.” She kept her distance, not wanting to force him to break the vow.

“Good riddance.” Severus caught him in another dark glare before leading her out. As soon as they stood in the living room she collapsed into his side, fresh tears breaking over her bottom lids as she turned and buried herself in his chest. He stroked her back gently, murmuring under his breath as gently as possible.

“It’s all over now, you are okay, and everything is fine.”

“I know!” She sobbed when he finally managed to pull her back, the look on her face was one he hadn’t expected.  
“I’m just so relieved!” He smirked at this, stroking the hair back from her face, such a magnificent woman she was.


	13. Twelve :.: Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Severus and Hermione sat on one of two black sofas that occupied the sitting room of Prince Manor, there was a fire crackling in the fireplace and Hermione was drinking a glass of water provided by Pree who seemed to be quite taken with the young witch already.

This of course suited him just fine, it ensured she would always have someone looking out for her in his home, and that was important. He didn’t just want her to be comfortable, he needed her to be.

She pulled her legs up beneath herself, giving him a long, almost scrutinizing look before she wet her lips and opened her mouth to speak. It was amusing, watching her process her emotions and then try to put them into words.

“So, you were my crow?” She finally managed to exhale, her eyes locked on him and a little flush took over her cheeks. He could remember every word she’d said to him while he was stuck in that bird body, and he was certain she probably did as well. His head stuck on one word in that sentence for a long moment.

My.

_And you are my witch._

“I was.”

“How did it happen?” She brushed a bundle of wild curls back from her face, trapping them behind her shoulder. Severus stood, going around behind her on the sofa and staring down at the top of her head.

“It’s a very long story. I’m going to touch you.” He spoke softly, reaching down and running his fingers through the thick curls, parting them and beginning to plait it down the back of her head as she sat in stunned silence.

“I’ve got quite a bit of time to listen.” She offered on a sigh, her shoulders relaxing as his fingers worked their way through the long, thick mass of her hair. He cleared his throat, focusing on his work and trying to stave of the worry that she would judge him for his past transgressions.

“I may have taken to sleeping around, a bit, if you must know.” She snorted.

“The whole wizarding world knew. I still received the paper, after all.” Her voice was playful.  
“When Ron let me have it.” She turned somber, he continued his work on her hair and took a deep, soothing breath.

“Well then, my most recent- hm- partner…” He tied her hair off with a conjured ribbon and rounded the sofa again to sit beside her, settling in and focusing on her face, so much nicer now he could actually see it.  
“She was quite upset with me, to say the least, and apparently much more talented with her wand than one would have expected. She only released me to help you, and even then, it seemed she was not fond of the idea.”

Hermione nodded at him, giving him a long look and then turning away with a flush on her cheeks. Oh, if he could know what she was thinking in that moment.

“How’d you learn to do that?”

“You’ll need to be more specific, love.” He raised both eyebrows at her and a little smile danced across her lips, she settled further into the sofa, losing some of her rigid posture.

“My hair, it’s just, you don’t seem like the type…” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.” Her eyes averted and he groaned to himself, sliding a bit closer and catching her hand in his, drawing her attention back up to his face.

“You truly do not need to apologize to me, Hermione. I _understand_ , you’ve been doing so much of it for so long, apologizing for every little thing but I will never, _never_ be upset with you for speaking your mind. It is what makes you, irrevocably you.” He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them delicately, earning a little gasp of air from the witch who watched him with wide eyes.

He couldn’t stop the smirk that danced across his lips.

“Now, as for your hair, I took care of my mother often when she was incapable of doing so herself. It always soothed her to have her hair plaited, or brushed, I’d thought it may help you as well.” She nodded, giving him a somber look before she settled her glass on the low coffee table in front of the sofa and wrapped her arms around herself.

“You don’t think I’m disgusting, do you? Some of the things you saw, the things I told you…” She trailed off, he could see the sparkle of tears on the edges of her eyes, on the verge of falling and he took another deep, soothing breath.

“Hermione,” she chewed her poor lip, an agonized look still painted across her face, “I’m going to touch you again.” With that he pulled her forward, into his chest and held her in his lap, as he had when he’d first rescued her with Weasley not even twenty-four hours earlier.

He should have insisted she go to bed, he should be trying to get her to get more sleep. Instead she’d insisted on asking him her questions, unable to stave off her curiosity even a moment longer to sleep.

Her crying was softer this time however, no hiccupping sobs as she buried her face in his frockcoat and he wished he’d removed, he wanted to be closer to her, not separated by thick layers of wool. Her fingers played at his buttons when she finally stopped crying and he held her fast, breathing in the soft scent of jasmine from her hair.

“I think he is disgusting. I could never think that of you.” He stroked her back and she relaxed further into him.

“Thank you, Severus…” She yawned, and snuggled her face closer to him, whining under her breath about the scratchy wool against his cheek.

He chuckled and released her with one arm to grasp his wand, vanishing the frock coat and cravat so that she lay against the much softer material of his white button-down shirt. He could feel her lips turn up in a smile against him as she took a deep breath and he forced himself not to comment.

He wasn’t sure how much more- emotionally- she could handle in one night, well, morning. The sun was just peeking over the Horizon as he pocketed his wand and settled back onto the sofa, his witch in his arms. Before he had a chance to remove her she was asleep, her breaths even and her body warm and soft on top of him.

He shook his head, shifting so that he could lay down on the sofa, Hermione curled up on top of him, and let her sleep, his fingers drawing little patterns on the soft skin of her exposed lower back as he held her.

It was like a dream.

Her cries in her sleep, pleading and grasping at his shirt so hard she popped a button off that shot across the room, woke him hours later. He’d fallen asleep holding her, he’d intended to stay awake, it had been a long few days however and his body had succumbed to the warmth of the witch on him and the comfort of having her safe with him.

“Shh, Hermione, I have you now, nothing is going to happen to you.” He cooed into her ear, stroking his hand down the back of her head, trailing it down her spine and she shot up on top of him, looking around dizzily before her eyes settled on him. Her posture relaxed and she dropped back down on his chest, her face immediately finding its way beneath his jaw and her warm breath trailing the skin there.

He forced himself to recite potions ingredients in his head.

 _Umbridge, think of Umbridge!_ He told himself, gods he didn’t want her to be upset with him for becoming aroused, there was little he could do about it when he could feel her every breath against the skin of his neck and collarbone. One of her hands had become trapped in his shirt, soft against the skin of his chest and the other was softly playing with his hair on the other side of his face.

It was enough to drive him to madness.

“Are you okay?” He finally managed, his voice much huskier than he would have preferred but, again, there was very little that he could do about it, not with her current position.

“I’m sorry.” She breathed into his neck and he cleared his throat, choosing not to say anything about her apology, this time.  
“What time is it?” Her head shot up and glanced around, her fingers pressing harder into his chest when she came up to look at the broad windows, sunlight streaming in.

“My guess would be midday, however if you will move I would be more than happy to cast a tempus and tell you for certain.” He cocked an eyebrow at her and she flushed, squirming up and sitting with her thighs on either side of his stomach, straddling his midsection.

This helped nothing.

Not with her ripped shirt hanging open and the sun shining off of her sleep warmed skin, bouncing its rays through her brown hair and highlighting those big amber eyes.

Instead of commenting, or grabbing her hips and helping to guide her where he really wanted her- because he was a bastard but he wasn’t _that_ much of a bastard- he pulled his wand and cast a quick tempus.

She stared at the glowing numbers of the time and gave a soft nod as he ended the spell and settled his wand on the table beside her water glass. She wet her lips, staring down at him and he wondered again what was going through her mind.

“Severus?”

“Mm?” He’d closed his eyes against the onslaught of sensation at her flushed cheeks, the way her body loomed over his.

“Never mind.” She sighed and she was blushing when she pulled herself from his midsection and stood, stretching her arms above her head.

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Never mind? You realize of course you can tell me, or ask me anything.” He trailed and she caught him in her gaze for a second. She looked pensive and he thought she was going to ask him what she’d been tossing around in that head of hers when she’d been on him.

Instead she opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

“Can I have a shower, and some clothes?” She fidgeted with her fingers, eyes on the ground.

“We’ve talked about looking me in the eye, haven’t we?” Her eyes shot up to lock on his and he gave a soft nod, pulling himself into a sitting position and ignoring rage in his joints and muscles from the position he’d fallen asleep in.  
“Good, yes, Pree will show you where to go and retrieve your clothing.” The elf appeared behind Hermione, giving the witch a loving look.

“Pree would be more than happy to be helping Madame, Madame is very sweet, and pretty.” She grasped Hermione’s hand in her own spindly fingers and the witch gave him a look over her shoulder, eyes wide.

He shrugged and she smiled broadly, shaking her head and leaving with the elf. He needed to shower himself, and dress, if he was going to take her for a new wand today.


	14. Thirteen :.: Give a Witch a Wand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Diagon Alley was busy as it ever was, bustling with witches and wizards, their children zooming about and in and out of shops. Ollivander’s had not been closed, but had instead been taken over by the man’s wife and son, and, with a hand on the small of Hermione’s back, that was where the pair was headed.

Stepping into the shop brought instant relief to the witch, she’d been immediately overwhelmed by the sheer number of other people. Having been kept in her house for nearly a year, alone or with only the company of her husband she was unaccustomed to having so many bustling about around her.

“Hello there, what can we help you with?” The rotund woman, with dark greying hair and deep-set brown eyes questioned as soon as they entered. They could see he boy puttering about in the background, not really paying attention to what was going on.

“I um, I need to purchase a wand.” Hermione looked up at him, looming close beside her and he gave her a soft nod, she sounded very hesitant but this was an important part of her healing process. She needed to get out, and she needed to speak to people with confidence again.

He knew that bossy eleven year old had to be in there somewhere, it was her time to shine.

“I see, well, aren’t you a bit old to be buying a wand deary?” The woman asked, bustling from behind the counter and knocking over a stack of wand boxes, she huffed a sigh and shouted through the shop.  
“Galander! Come pick this mess up!” Hermione winced at her abrasive nature and Severus cocked an eyebrow.

“Pardon Madame but she said nothing about it being her first wand. Though if you have a problem helping a witch find a new wand when her own has been lost I would be more than happy to take her elsewhere.” He sneered, Hermione had drifted away from him a bit and he could see her drifting along the walls, staring at all of the wand boxes.

He could remember his first time here, he was certain she probably was as well.

“Severus, will you take me to see my parents?” She turned to him with wide eyes, springy curls bouncing around her with her sudden turn and he paused breathing.

She wanted him to come with her, to her parents?

“Of course.” He turned back to glare at the woman who was still staring at him with a tensed jaw and narrowed eyes.

“My first wand was vine wood, with a dragon heartstring core, if that helps you at all.” Hermione’s finger skimmed the boxes. Severus noticed that now she was staring at the witch instead of himself, her brown eyes wide as the girl traced the boxes.

“I know you…” She trailed and Hermione gave her a startled look, blinking and tipping her head at the witch.

“You’re Hermione Weasley! Oh yes, I remember when you all beat that bastard that took my husband away from us!” She exclaimed, smiling at Hermione who shrank away a bit, wetting her lips.

“It’s Granger actually, Ronald and I are no longer together.”

“And you chose this snake in the grass over that sweet boy, shame, bet he’s heartbroken about it.” The woman was glaring at Hermione now and Severus cleared his throat.

“While I understand that this may come as quite a shock to you, it is neither your business, nor your place to speak on our private lives. Your comments have been heard and are no longer necessary. Now, you will help Hermione find her wand or I will show you mine.” Severus growled out, annoyed now, Hermione was looking at her hands, tears gathering in her eyes and her fingers fidgeting and folding together.

The woman huffed and pulled a few wands from the back, the same components as her own. She waved them but found they didn’t respond like her own wand did. Mrs. Ollivander chose not to speak further and it wasn’t until her son, Galander, came out with a wand in a box that anyone spoke.

“Excuse me Miss, try this one.” He pulled the wand from the box and she admired it before taking it in her hand, her eyes lit as she cast and a flurry of birds began to spin around her head, making her grin and stare up at them.

“You have your father’s talent, I see.” Severus commented, close to a compliment as the man ever managed and the boy grinned, one of his teeth missing.

“Thank you, sir, It’s Acacia wood, very stubborn wood will only work for the one the wand is meant for, it’s loyal and only attracted to those capable of the most powerful magic, talented witches and wizards, with a unicorn hair core, typically the unicorn hair would make the wand less powerful, but it is certainly made up for by the Acacia. Unicorn hair is incredibly loyal as well, my guess would be even if bested in a duel this wand would be loyal, or at the very most work very poorly for someone else.” The boy spoke and Hermione watched him, her fingers stroking the smooth wood of her wand reverently. Severus hoped the tears gathering in her eyes this time were happy.

“Thank you, sweet boy, your father was a good man, I can see he rubbed off on you.” She kissed the boy’s forehead and Severus almost chuckled at the blush that spread across his cheeks, of course, the angry mottled red color his mother turned almost pushed him over the edge.

“Well, let us get you out of here then.” She ushered them through paying and leaving, when they stepped out on the street again Hermione pocketed her wand and her step was lighter.

It wasn’t until they were perusing a bookstore an hour later that she said anything about the negative experience in the wand shop.

“Will they always think I am the bad guy?” Her voice piped from beside him, she was staring at the shelf, stroking the spine of a book with delicate fingers.

Severus turned, giving her a long look.

“So long as you do not release any intimate details of your relationship with Mr. Weasley I am afraid that yes, they will always think you are the one who ended things with him.” He took a deep breath.  
“Unfortunately that you are spending time with me will only make it worse.”

“You’re a hero much as any of us are! They shouldn’t treat you like that!” Severus turned at the vehement tone in her voice and caught her gaze, her eyes burned fire and he smirked.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Hermione, but it does not change the fact, they will always see me as the Death Eater because that is what I am- was- and there is no justification for that. So long as you are spending time with me, going places with me, they will assume that you have turned your eyes toward the dark arts.” Her hand had stopped moving, he was watching her, interested in what she may have to say. She turned herself, her fingers dropping from the book’s spine so she could come closer to him.

“Well, no matter what they think, I know you’re a wonderful man who sacrificed so much for them, for all of us. I admire you quite a bit for that, you know, I have for a long time. Saving me from Ron, you have no idea how much it means to me, without you I would have lived under that unbreakable vow for the rest of my life, even if I had somehow found the strength to leave him I wouldn’t have been able to.”

She was touching him this time, her fingers trailing along his cheek, tracing his cheekbone.

It was bliss, a sort of nirvana he never thought he’d reach at the touch of another. Her small, cold fingers were soft against the skin of his cheek and it was as if he’d been transported somewhere else, somewhere peaceful.

The opinion of the general public didn’t matter to him, it never had.

No, it was her opinion that mattered now and her opinion of him was positive, that was more than he would ever dream to ask for.

“Thank you, Hermione.” He caught her hand under his and she smiled, her fingers curled against his cheek.

“Well then, I’m ready to go home.” She pulled back, her smile morphing to something brighter and his lips quirked up in a smirk.

“Home?” He cocked an eyebrow playfully and she pursed her lips, furrowing her brow for a moment.

“It certainly felt like home while I was there…” She trailed and he cleared his throat, catching her attention.

“I was only teasing you Hermione, of course you may consider my home your own.” He found himself- again- with an armful of witch, only this time she was hugging him around her neck and smiling broadly.

“Thanks.” She whispered before pulling away and taking his hand in hers, it was an easy action, as if she’d been doing it forever. He stared at the back of her head as she led him from the shop, and out into the street Diagon Alley, searching out an apparition point.


	15. Fourteen :.: A Crow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

A week had passed since Hermione had gotten her new wand and she was on the front lawn of Prince Manor. She was casting, quickly, her spells a barrage as Severus cast back.

She wet her lips, smiling when he held up a hand to halt her and took deep breaths.

“Merlin witch, your stamina.” He grunted as he took another deep breath and she laughed through her own heaving breaths. She’d begged him to duel with her at least once a day, to help her regain her strength, to familiarize herself with her new wand and the way it responded to her motions.

She’d grown up using the same wand, knowing how it would respond.

She found this one was very responsive. It dealt high level spells with speed and precision she’d not even managed to get from her old wand and it was heart lifting.

Everything seemed to be falling into place around her.

“Expecto Patronum!” She cast, watching as not the figure of an otter sprang from her wand but the largish form of a bird- no, a crow. She watched it with wide eyes as it flew around Severus before disappearing in the air.

She was staring at the ground, fidgeting with her wand.

She couldn’t believe it, her Patronus had changed from the sweet, gamboling otter to a literal image of Severus. And she’d used it in front of him!

She was so embarrassed, she couldn’t believe she’d shown him that.

He made to walk towards her and she looked up at him before turning and darting back into Prince Manor. She only stopped to breathe when she found her way to her room and leant against the door.

Her chest heaved with the exertion of running so quickly and her legs burned. It had been a long time since she’d done any kind of physical activity and while she was getting better- she was certainly not in top physical shape.

Hermione slid down the door, her fingers buried in her hair and her wand discarded beside her on the dark wood of the floor.

_A crow, it’s a bloody crow. I can’t believe it!_

_But then, he’s my happy thought, he helped me so much, even before I knew it was him helping me, and that crow- it’s a symbol of my freedom._

_He doesn’t feel that way about me, he can’t! He never will, he may not hate me but his feelings definitely are not the same as mine- and what are mine exactly?_

A knock on her door snapped Hermione from her thoughts and she shifted in her spot on the floor.

“Hermione, are you okay?” It was Severus, she could feel his weight lean against the door and shift the wood in its frame. Her eyes closed as she lay her head back against the door and just breathed for a few more moments.

“I’m fine, just- I don’t know, mortified? Does that seem a sufficient word?” She finally exhaled and she heard his deep chuckle, a sound she’d only become familiar with recently.

“You’ll have to face me eventually, you are aware, mortified or not. We are meeting with your parents tomorrow, in a restaurant. I’m afraid you will not be getting out of it.” She could hear the smirk in his voice and groaned to herself.

“I can’t believe you saw that. I feel so stupid.” He cleared his throat.

“Hermione, open the door, please. You have no reason to be ‘mortified’ as you so eloquently put it.” His voice had dropped to a near whisper and she had to strain to hear his voice through the door.

After pocketing her wand, she pushed herself up off the floor using the door as support until she came to a full stand and turned, opening the door a crack to see Severus leaning against the wall across from her. His stance was entirely casual and she breathed a sigh of relief, at least he wasn’t mad.

“Would you like to know something Hermione, something I haven’t told anyone else?” He asked as she opened the door the rest of the way and stepped out, closing it behind her and leaning across from him against the wood.

She nodded, watching him closely, her eyes focused intently on his. That deep black was so soulful, it made her want to wrap herself around him and ease whatever pain it was he kept locked so deep inside.

“When I was a young man, my love for a witch impacted my Patronus, making it a doe, just like hers.” She nodded, she knew that much from talking to Harry.  
“I assumed the boy would have told you.” He grunted, and shifted in his place, black eyes roaming her face.

“Isn’t it still? I mean, they don’t change often I know…” She trailed, looking away briefly. Of course, she hadn’t forgotten he’d loved Harry’s mum, so much so that he’d carried her around with him his entire life. She’d thought that was why he’d taken to so many witches beds when she’d read about him in the papers.

Of course, why his sex life was any of the wizarding worlds business she had no idea. Rita Skeeter was a strange creature after all, there was no accounting for her.

He wouldn’t settle down with anyone, not with Lily Potter hanging over him like a looming ghost.

“Hermione.” She was startled to see he’d come quite a lot closer to her, she didn’t mean to jump, she felt terrible about it the moment it happened but he stood his ground.

She hated that everything made her jump. She knew he wasn’t going to hit her, he wouldn’t, not with what she knew about him, what he’d told her about his father.

Still her nerves were raw, she was so timid still. She’d not even managed to visit with her friends and their meeting with her parents would be her first time around someone other than Severus since their trip to Diagon.

“When I woke up in the hospital wing it was different, it had changed. You know, I don’t think I’d ever seen my own Patronus, I’d been seeing Lily’s for so long that I just assumed it was mine.” He’d cupped her cheek, stroking her cheekbone with the rough pad of his thumb and she tilted her head into the touch, her eyes closing.

“What is it now?” She questioned, wetting her lips with a swipe of her tongue and sighing at his gentle touch still on her cheek. He’d treated her to only a handful of these soft caresses and she savored every single one, they meant so much to her, to be touched softly, treated gently.

To be touched at all without it being a strike, or by force was something she’d not experienced in a long time, she craved it. It took everything in her not to crawl on top of him every chance she had, limiting herself to little touches and savoring it when he returned the gesture.

“A big ugly crow.” He chuckled, his hand still on her cheek and her eyes snapped open, glaring into his.

“There’s nothing ugly about my crow.” His eyes narrowed on her lips and she took a shallow breath. She was willing him to kiss her internally, her wide eyes locked on his face.

She wanted nothing more than to know what his kisses felt like. Instead he pulled away and took a deep breath, leaning back against the wall opposite her door. She couldn’t help the disappointment that bubbled up in her chest.

She knew it, he didn’t feel the same.

It was silly of her to think for even a second that he did, he may not have been so obsessed with Lily to still share her Patronus but it was obvious that he didn’t reciprocate her feelings.

“I think I’ll go to bed early, if you don’t mind.” She didn’t wait for an answer, she simply turned and walked back into her room, shutting the door firmly behind her and collapsing into her bed, face down.

Frustrated tears pouring from her eyes.

Severus groaned as soon as her door was closed. It had taken everything in him to pull back.

He’d wanted to kiss her so badly, to show her how well he could love her.

And that was the problem, he couldn’t, not when he could still be perceived as a rebound of sorts. He wanted her love, he wanted her forever, not for a time while she recovered from her disastrous marriage.

He’d been stunned when her Patronus had been a crow, a smaller mimic of his own that he was certain she’d never seen. Until he realized, she’d seen him trapped as a crow, he’d been her companion for a short time.

Was he her happy thought? Was he the thing she focused on to produce her Patronus? Maybe there was hope for him yet, perhaps he wouldn’t be doomed to be a rebound, or worse, her friend for the rest of his natural life.

He stared at the wood of her door. He knew, as soon as she’d left he’d frustrated her, and it hadn’t been his intention, not at all. He just- he needed to know it was real.

Either way he would never leave her side, he would always be there for her, but- he’d prefer if his loyalty, and his affections were returned.

Kicking off of the wall with a sigh he strode down the hall to his own room, summoning Pree and instructing her to take food to Hermione.

She of course was glad to do so and he slumped in one of the three chairs that were in his room around a large fireplace. The master bedroom was large, spacious, with an entirely too big bed and too much furniture. Still, it suited him fine in colors of deep cherry and black and he was comfortable there.

A wave of his wand summoned one of his favorite vintage Firewhiskey and a tumbler that he immediately filled and began to nurse. His evening went much this way, lost in thought, until he finally felt he may have been able to sleep and stripped himself of all of his outer clothes, leaving him in only a pair of black boxers before he fell into the softness of his blankets.

He woke, unsure of how many hours later to a shuffling at the foot of his bed and shifted, sitting up with his wand pointed at the figure bundled there. It didn’t take him long to realize it was Hermione and he exhaled a breath of relief, dropping his wand back onto his bedside table and shifting to sit up on his knees so he could reach her.

“Hermione, love.” His voice cracked from his time asleep as he brushed the hair back from her face. Her eyes were swollen and puffy and her cheeks sported the familiar lines of dried tears. He wasn’t sure when she’d come in but he exhaled and with relative ease that told him she still wasn’t eating well he picked her up and pulled her to lay beside him, her body between his and the wall.

She shifted, whimpered something, and then grasped at his shoulder, her eyes pinched shut.

“Shh, love, you’re fine now.” He stroked her back, enjoying the feel of her bare skin pressed against his.

“Why don’t you love me.” He stilled, his hands grasping at her back as he stared down at her. Surely, she wasn’t referring to him. Surely.


	16. Fifteen :.: What Is Love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

“What?” His voice sounded strained to his own ears as he held the witch against him, wanting her to speak again, hoping that she was only babbling in his sleep.

His stomach clenched, his entire body was tense. His senses were painfully aware of the woman in his arms, the way she clung to his shoulders, her breath on his bare chest.

“I asked why you don’t love me? I can’t understand it, one minute I’ll think you feel the same, and the next I feel like we’re on different sides of the planet.” She wet her lips, he assumed subconsciously, considering the way her tongue poked delicately against his chest as well. His grasp tensed against his will, a low groan barely avoided.

“Hermione, I- I don’t know how to respond.” She exhaled, able to break his hold because of his shock and rolling away from him.

“Don’t say anything, Severus, I’ll go.” She tried to shuffle down the bed but he shot up, catching her by her arms and dragging her up so she lay over his chest, a squeal of shock breaking from her chest. She didn’t flinch, or cry, so he hoped it was okay. He’d been attempting not to manhandle her, as it were, despite his desire to tug her around.

“I didn’t say you could leave.” He ground out, nudging her so he could look into her face.  
“I do love you, Hermione, so much that I second guess every single move I make around you. How could I not love you? You’re amazing witch, and the more and more you rediscover yourself, the more in love with you I fall.” She’d stopped breathing and he wondered if he should try to coax her into taking a breath.

Rolling them so he hovered over her seemed like an acceptable response and she gasped a breath. He smirked, twining his fingers with hers and holding them on either side of her head, staring down into her eyes.

“Gods, I love you so much it is painful. And I think, I think I’ve loved you far longer than is acceptable, than is legal.” She chewed her lip, her wide eyes locked on him, he didn’t miss the way her eyes flickered to his mouth before locking back on his.

“You do?” She finally breathed out and he gave a sharp nod, black hair falling into his face as he brought his face lower, gently connecting his lips with hers in a delicate kissed. She pressed back and his fingers clenched around hers, his body immediately going into overdrive at the feeling of her soft breaths through her nose on his cheek, the way she moved her lips, tentative at first before settling into a sort of comfort.

He felt like he’d been kissing her his entire life, like she was made for him, the way her body fit against his, the way her hands fit inside his. It was his bliss.

He pulled away from her, opening his eyes to find hers still closed, her tongue flicked out to wet her lips and he groaned, pressing his forehead into her shoulder, a gentle kiss to the space just above her breast.

“I wanted to wait, I wanted to give you time.” He cleared his throat after a few moments and released her hair, careful to keep his weight off of her by propping up on his elbows, she sighed.

“Why?” She sounded groggy, like she was near sleep now she’d gotten that out of her system. Unfortunately for him he was wide awake.

He shifted his body to the side, his face against her chest and her leg hooked over his hips as he wrapped his arms around her back, holding her tight.

“I can’t face the idea of being anything less than the rest of your life to you.” She carded her fingers through his hair, gently pulling the cool locks away before letting them fall back onto his neck.

“You think my feelings are because you helped me?” She questioned and he nodded into her chest, not willing to pull back and look up at her. This was his insecurity, his problem.

She could ridicule him now, he was vulnerable.

He despised being vulnerable.

“Oh Severus.” She urged his face back with gentle hands and bowed her back so she could look into his eyes.  
“I would never, never be involved with someone if I didn’t think they were going to be there for the rest of my life. You have to know that- if Ron…” She swallowed, closing her eyes against a still too fresh pain. “…If he hadn’t hurt me, so much, I would have been with him forever, and my love for him was nothing like what I feel for you. I didn’t know it could feel this way, that I could be so comfortable, so relaxed.”

He pushed his face back into her chest and sighed, holding her tightly. He wanted to believe her, really he did, it was hard though, knowing that she was so fresh from another relationship.

Another relationship that hadn’t been a real relationship in so long.

That made him feel a bit lighter, the idea that their relationship hadn’t been real, or healthy, for a long time.

He trailed his fingers across her lower back and took a several deep breaths, she smelled like citrus, and vanilla, her jasmine shampoo had been discarded as soon as he discovered she used it because Weasley liked the smell. The scent of old books clung to her as well, something his mind had simply grown to know was her.

She smelled the way she did when she was a student and he would pass her, leaning to look into her cauldron and catching that softly feminine scent.

He’d adored it then, teaching classes full of what could often times be quite smelly students, a plethora of different colognes clinging to each different student, she had been a reprieve for his sense of smell.

He realized all at once that she’d fallen asleep with her hands buried in his hair, her head on his pillow while he rested against her body. He sighed a breath of relief, allowing her to stay wrapped around him, and settling in to sleep himself, hopefully.

Waking up was a difficult affair when one had a witch wrapped so tightly around them they could not escape. Severus grunted, pulling a leg free of his witch’s legs and chuckled to himself.

She was like devil’s snare, wrapped around him like she thought he would leave if given the opportunity.

The sun was up, though just barely and it looked like rain outside, a heavy shroud of clouds hanging on the horizon.

Hermione twitched beside him, finally rolling away so that he could move his body entirely, and buried her face in the pillow with a low groan. He smirked trailing his fingers from her shoulder to her hip as he stared at the back of her head before he hauled himself from the bed.

The night before felt like a dream, like any minute now she would wake and tell him she didn’t really have feelings for him, that she really just wanted someone to make her feel better and then she could move on.

Slipping into the restroom he stared at himself in the mirror. He was not an attractive man, not at all, and he ran a hand down his face as he stared. His nose was too large, his skin to pale, sallow, his hair lank, his teeth reflected the years of neglect he’d suffered as a child, and while now he knew how to take care of himself on a hygienic level, as a child that had not been the case.

No, he’d had to learn the hard way, being bullied for things that he had no control over.

He glared at his visage in the mirror, wondering what she could possibly see in him. So caught up in his reflection was he that he didn’t hear, or see Hermione coming. He was only made aware of her presence when she wrapped her arms around his torso from behind and stuck her head out from around his arm, looking at herself in the mirror behind him.

He couldn’t help but think how wrong it looked, the pretty young witch clinging to his willowy frame, old and abused. His scars told a somber story and he knew she’d noticed them when her fingers began to trail the ones closest to them.

“I’d like to know, how you got your scars.” She sighed, settling her face against his arm and he sighed, pulling her round and backing up so that he could hover behind her.

He wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled her back against him, his face dipping to bury itself in her hair.

“I cannot even begin to remember how all of them came to be.” He breathed into her hair, inhaling the sweet and sharp mixture of vanilla and citrus, along with his own smell of herbs clinging to her hair.

He liked the combination, he liked that it meant she was his.

His.

“Well then, the ones you can remember, sometime.” She turned her head and lay a delicate kiss on his temple, he tensed, holding her tighter to his front and taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to be with me?”

“I am with you, Severus.” She cocked an eyebrow at him and he raised his head to level her in his gaze, she had to crane her neck and he was tempted to feel bad about it. She was teasing him, and that dulled the guilt quite a bit.

“You know what I mean, Hermione.” He grunted, his lips pecking the tip of her nose before he drew back completely to start the shower. She turned, observing him from her position leant against the sink. He could feel her eyes roaming his back, her gasp of air when he dropped his boxers and stepped into the stream of hot water made him smirk, hidden behind the thick glass of the shower door.

“Do you want to be with me? I mean- you aren’t just showing me this affection because you pity me, are you?” He opened the door to give her a hard look, grateful for the images of Umbridge floating through his mind that kept him flaccid. She stared for a long moment before looking up at his face.

Yes, he’d seen Weasley’s prick, it hadn’t been anything impressive at all, he wondered if his made her nervous.

“I do not pity you Hermione, you are not weak, you are a strong witch. I confessed to you last night, I love you so much it causes me pain, physical agony, I cannot be more clear than that.” He responded bluntly and shut the door, leaving the witch slack jawed and staring as he finished his shower.

He pulled the towel from overtop the glass wall and stepped out with the black cloth slung around his hips, catching her in a dark look.

“Your turn?” He raised both eyebrows and she flushed.

Merlin he enjoyed her reactions to him.


	17. Sixteen :.: Stop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Hermione sighed, giving him a long look as he watched her, eyebrow cocked.

A few small steps brought her to stand directly in front of him and she trailed a finger down his chest, her finger bumping over the ridges of scars and the faint muscles that defined his slender figure. Drops of water caught on her finger and she stared at them as they gathered on her fingertip.

She was torn, she wanted to be with this man, so badly that she hadn’t been able to stay away from him for one bloody evening. All the same however she was scared, she’d been through so much recently and she just wasn’t sure which feelings to follow, the ones that told her to be bold? Or those that told her to step back and assess her situation.

“Hermione.” Her eyes shot up to his, that deep onyx pulling her in and holding her transfixed. She wondered what he saw when he looked in the mirror, because she was certain it wasn’t the same thing she saw when she looked at him.

“Do you know what I see in you?” She spoke, ignoring his unspoken plea and staring up at him with wide eyes.

“What?” She flattened her palm against his chest, right over the place she could feel his heart beat the strongest and watched him, his hand came up to clasp around her wrist and she wet her lips.

“I see a strong, powerful, loyal wizard. I see someone who has been through so much more than he deserves, someone who deserves a love that lasts a lifetime, to get everything he desires. Someone who should be regarded with respect when he leaves his home and who should be very proud of the things he’s done in his life because they all lead him to be who he is.” He grasped her hand, pulling her knuckles to his mouth and pressing open mouthed kisses to the skin.

She watched him, still transfixed, her breath shallow in her chest.

“I see a man I love, that I want to be with, who I want to stay with me. Do you want to stay with me, my sweet crow?” His eyes shot up to hers, his hand still holding her fingers to his mouth. His nostrils flared and he pulled her to him, holding her to his chest and cradling her head in his hand when she leaned back to look into his face.

“You’ve been mine since the day I forced my way into your house. I want nothing more than to stay with you.” He exhaled, dipping to catch her lips in a gentle kiss. Hermione sighed, her lips working with his as he grasped her around her lower back, his hand still cradling the back of her head.

He deepened the kiss, trailing his tongue along the seam of her lips and begging entrance, she smiled, opening her mouth and letting his sweet tongue war with hers. His fingers left her head and lower back in favor of trailing gently across her body, slipping beneath the silk camisole she wore to sleep in and trailing across the smooth skin of her flat stomach.

He groaned at the touch, the feeling of her cool skin beneath his fingers, the needy, whiny little noises she made as his tongue explored her mouth. Hermione sighed, her arms raising to let him pull her camisole away and his fingers trailed higher, brushing the underside of a breast.

_Ron had his tongue down her throat, forcing her head back harshly and hurting her lips that were pressed tightly between their teeth, she cried, wanting him to stop but it wasn’t happening. He groped her, grasping her breast with a bruising pressure that made her cry out into his mouth._

_An opportunity for his tongue to slither in further._

Hermione forced away the memory, fisting Severus’ hair in her fingers as his gentle hands trailed her torso.

He wasn’t going to hurt her. His tongue was not down her throat, instead it advanced and retreated in a sweet dance with her own. His hands caressed her gently, his thumb ghosting from her hip bone back to the underside of her breast and she made another needy little sound in the back of her throat.

He moved, kissing down her throat, his lips warm on her skin as he kissed across the bare expanse.

_He bit her, hard, his eyes glazed as he worked to unfasten her jeans, she groaned, turning her head so she didn’t have to look at the lustful, yet somehow aggressive look he gave her. Her eyes pinched shut when he bit her again, this time on the top of her breast, breaking the skin and making her whimper in pain._

“No, stop, stop, stop!” She cried out, flinging herself back and out of Severus’ grasp, he watched her, black eyes wide and his hands shook.

She was pressed against the wall, bare chest heaving as she watched him.

He moved slowly, dipping to retrieve her camisole from the floor and approaching her with steady steps. Her eyes were watering and she closed them, her face turned down to the floor.

She was surprised when he only sighed, stroking the side of her face gently and slipping her camisole over her head. He coaxed her arms into their holes and lifted her face with both hands on either side of her face.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She bit her lip, so hard it hurt and he stroked her cheekbones with her thumbs. She could feel his warm breath on her face as he dipped to lay little kisses across her forehead and brow.

“No, no, Hermione, no, don’t be sorry, it’s okay, it was too much, too soon, I should have been paying more attention. You’re okay, it’s all okay.” He breathed, his lips settling on her forehead as he held her face on either side. Her hands came up to grasp his arms, she was shaking, she realized as she held his arms and the panicked sensation finally began to subside.  
“It’s all okay, you’re safe.” He wrapped her in his arms, kissing the top of her head and she sighed, letting herself be held for a moment.

“I’m so sorry, Severus. I’m just, I’m not…” She was forced into silence when he pressed a finger to her lips, dipping his head so he could look her directly in the eye.

“We will never, never do more than you are comfortable with, Hermione. Do. Not. Be. Sorry.” She watched his eyes, so earnest, and gave a nod, his finger still settled on her lips.  
“Good, now, shower, I will send Pree with a towel and some clothing for the day. I have work to do in my lab and then we have dinner with your parents.” She nodded again, watching his face closely for any sign of his displeasure.

At least if he was angry with her, he didn’t show it.

Severus groaned, falling onto the edge of his bed and running his fingers through his hair. He waited until he could hear the water in the shower running before he called for Pree, asking her to please help Hermione before he hauled himself up and began to dress at a leisurely pace.

He hated the look on her face, that frightened posture, and the way she shook. He smashed his hand against the side of the armoire and groaned at himself, his frockcoat open and hanging off of his skinny frame as he stood there.

He should have seen the signs, he should have stopped himself. He never wanted her to be afraid of him, never.

In fact, he couldn’t imagine doing the atrocious things Weasley had done, even more he hated that she had to live with those memories.

He buttoned his frockcoat and glanced to his hand, there was blood dripping in a steady stream where he’d split his pinky knuckle and he grunted in response, grabbing his wand from the bedside table to clean up his mess.

“You realize of course that you don’t have to go anywhere near her to make her regret what she did, right?” A brunette male, bulky and deeply tanned sat across from a slightly smaller redhead, their conversation quiet as they downed another pint of beer between them.

The redhead had come to consult his friend on what she should do about his wayward wife. Surely there was a way to get her back, or at the very least make her wish she’d never left him, he knew there had to be a way.

And she’d never specified what kind of help he was supposed to be seeking for his anger issues. To his mind this was helping. His friend would help him get even, and that would certainly help with his anger.

“Who would she visit with first? What would she do when she’s finally removed herself from hiding?” The other man asked and Ron scratched his chin, taking a long swig of his beer before the lightbulb went off.

“Her parents.” He nodded, as if confirming his own answer and the other man’s face split in a broad smile.

“And they’re muggles, aren’t they?” His smile was wicked, his perfect white teeth glinted even in the dim light of the pub.

“Yes, of course they are.” Ron answered, looking a bit lost, his friend rolled bright blue eyes at him.

“Then all you need to do is Imperius them, make them hate her and the bat, or better yet, make them turn her against him.” He gave a manipulative, calculating smile.

Ron wrinkled his nose.

“I don’t think I can maintain an imperius on two people, and ‘sides, ‘Mione isn’t that dumb.”

“I’ll give you a hand with that, and she must be, she stayed with your dumb arse for as long as she did.”

“Hey mate, take that back!” Ron hollered and his friend gave a guffawing laugh, his broad shoulders shaking.

“Fine then, but I can see this working very well for us.”

“It’s illegal though, innit?” Ron looked up again, liking the idea but not the thought of going to Azkaban.

“Don’t be a pussy, Ron, everything will be fine.”

“If you say so, Dave.”


	18. Seventeen :.: The Grangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Hermione couldn’t remember ever being so nervous to see her parents in her life, not even right after she’d restored their memories of her after the war.

And she’d been incredibly nervous then.

With Severus beside her they sat, waiting at the table for the rest of their party to arrive and spoke quietly. He’d been trying to reassure her all day, make her feel better, but her nerves were so shot.

She was worried what they would think of her divorce, what they would say about Severus. He clutched her hand in his and pressed her knuckles to his lips in what was becoming a familiar gesture of affection.

The smile that forced its way onto her face was proof she appreciated the gestures, she hoped.

“What if they’re disappointed with me? Oh, they never would have been divorced.” She fretted, not for the first time and he shook his head, his black hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and it was strange not to see it sway around his face with the familiar action.

“How could they possibly be disappointed with you for leaving an abusive situation? Hermione, they are your parents, and I have met them on more than one occasion, they seemed quite intelligent, and very compassionate. More than anything though, they love you, and love like that comes with no stipulations.” She grinned up at him, so happy she’d decided to make him a part of her life.

“I love you, my crow.” He frowned for just a second at the nickname and grunted his response.

“I love you too, my Hermione.” He watched her for a long moment, black eyes boring into hers before he spoke further.  
“Could we, perhaps, keep the crow nickname to home, however?” He cocked an eyebrow and she pursed her lips in an attempt to stop the giggle that wanted to break from her.

It was in vane because as soon as he smirked at her the fit of giggles spilled from her mouth and she ran her fingers through her hair.

“I’m afraid, Severus, that you won’t be escaping that nickname any time soon.” She winked.

“Then I suppose I will have to come up with one sufficient as a response.” He smirked and they both stood as her parents joined them at their table.

Alice Granger slipped the shawl from her shoulders and handed it off to her husband as she rounded the table to hug her daughter.

“Oh Hermione, we’ve missed you so much.” She cooed, stroking her back lovingly, Hermione smiled into her mum’s shoulder and returned the gesture.

“I missed you as well, mum, dad.” She smiled at her father from over her mum’s shoulder and he nodded. She noticed his brown eyes seemed a bit dull but before she could really question it he was pulling the chair out for her mum and Severus was settling her back into her own seat.

She clasped his hand under the table, a strange sense of unease coming over her, though she couldn’t really pin-point the cause of it.

“So where is that lovely husband of yours?” Her mum tipped her head, giving Hermione a long look through deep brown eyes and Hermione cleared her throat, trying to look her mum in the face but averting her gaze.

“Um, Ronald and I are no longer together.”

“Oh?” Her dad looked between her and Severus and she tensed her hand around his. He stroked the back of her hand delicately with his thumb, she felt the comfort that must have been his desired effect.  
“And why is that, and why is your old Professor here, _Hermione?_ ”

His tone was sharp, sharper than any ton he’d ever taken with her before and she deflated a bit, her shoulders slumped despite herself. She was meant to be showing herself she was strong, not acting like a scared child.

“Mr. Granger, if you don’t mind I’d like to say-“ Severus was cut off by the man and Hermione looked between them with wide eyes.

“I mind quite a lot, actually, you should not be near my daughter. How old are you exactly?” Hermione watched as her father gave Severus a scrutinizing gaze and she furrowed her brow.

Her mother was fifteen years younger than her father, what exactly was he on about?

“Yes, I’d have to say I find this to be quite the appalling choice, Hermione.” Her mother commented and she raised both brows this time, looking at her mum with a dumbfounded expression as the woman tossed blonde hair over her shoulder.

Hermione had been having a hard time breathing but looking at her parents now she wet her lips and glanced to Severus, who looked furious as her father continued his tirade against him.

“If you would, please excuse us.” Hermione all but dragged Severus from his seat and tugged him around the corner, into the little hall that lead to the men’s and ladies’ rooms.

“Severus, I don’t know what’s going on, but that,” she motioned with her thumb to the table, “that is not how my parents act.” He furrowed black eyebrows, watching her with a scrutinous gaze.

“Hermione, perhaps they simply do not like the idea of their daughter being with a man nineteen years older than her.” He tried to reason, crossing his arms across his chest and she grasped his elbows with slender fingers, coming up on her tiptoes to press a little kiss to his lips.

“If that were the case, I would have to disagree. Unfortunately, however, my father is fifteen years older than my mother. They were married when she was seventeen, he was a family friend.” She cocked an eyebrow at him and he pursed his lips, his tense posture slackening a bit.

“So, you don’t think they would truly disapprove of me?”

“I don’t care, frankly, but no, I don’t think they would. I think they would see you as the wonderful man you are.” She squeezed his elbows before releasing her hold. A waiter walked past, giving the couple a strange look.

“Is everything okay, sir, ma’am?” Hermione nodded while Severus glared.

“Everything is fine.” He looked down at her and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his arms uncrossing so that his hands could find her hips and hold them tightly for a moment.  
“I suppose we shall see how this plays out then, I have a feeling I know exactly who is behind this _nonsense._ ” Hermione smiled, her fingers pressing into the wool of his frockcoat before dragging down the center, trailing his buttons.

“Thank you for being my knight in shining armor.” She stared straight ahead at his chest, her cheeks flushed.

“Your what?” He cast her a confused glance and she shook her head with a little laugh.

“Nothing, I was having a muggle moment.” He chuckled and dipped to kiss her cheek, his lips by her ear.

“I know what it is, Hermione. I was teasing you.” He whispered into her ear, making a chill crawl its way up and down her spine before he steered her from their hiding place, his hand on her lower back.

“Sorry mum, dad, I needed to speak to Severus in private.”

“About what?” Her mum questioned, Hermione wet her lips, relieved when the waiter came back with their appetizer and cast both couples an odd glance.

“This looks fantastic.” She pulled a mushroom from the plate and stuffed it into her mouth, her excuse not to speak as Severus watched her with a bemused expression.

“I want to know why you left your husband.” Her father spoke and she swallowed, the thick mushroom going down in a painful ball that stretched her esophagus and made her throat hurt. She gave her dad a sad look and Severus cleared his throat, stroking her shoulder opposite him, she wasn’t sure when he’d hooked his arm across her chair but she appreciated the closeness.

“I believe you will find he was quite the git.” Severus commented, Thomas, her dad, gave him a dark look.

“I don’t recall asking you. From what I understand you are quite the git yourself.” He bit out and Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. She’d never seen her laid back- once a hippy father give someone a look so dark.

If she hadn’t been certain before that something else was going on then she knew now.

“Dad, please, please be nice to Severus.” She burrowed into his side, she could feel him looking down at the top of her head and his hand grasped her shoulder.

“I think, perhaps, we should call it an evening, before Hermione becomes upset.” She exhaled, he was right, she needed to go, not because she was upset with her parents, no, she was upset with whoever was making them act this way.

She would never be able to shake the image of her father making that face at her, at Severus.

“I don’t think she’s going anywhere with you.” Alice lay her napkin on the table, holding a hand out to Hermione.  
“Come home with us, Hermione, we’ll help you sort things out with Ron and you can get on with your life.” Hermione flushed, her jaw clenching in momentary rage before she stood, her hands propping her on the table.

“You can tell Ronald that I am not an idiot, and that he can go to hell!” She all but screeched and turned, rushing from the restaurant with such haste she slammed into a man in the doorway.

“Oy, careful there.” He smiled, his straight white teeth glinting. He had floppy brown hair and evenly tanned skin, and he was bulky, like the guys Ron played quidditch with.

She hardly took another moment to look at him as she muttered an apology and made her way out of the doors entirely.

Severus met her outside a few minutes later, she assumed he’d squared their ticket before leaving. She couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears that rushed down her cheeks.

She knew that it wasn’t her parents saying those things. On a deep instinctive level she knew but it still broke her heart to hear those words come out of her mum’s mouth. No question about her choices or anything.

It was like a nightmare.

“I hope you know, I’m going to kill him.” Severus said, hooking his arm around her waist and helping her to stand. They needed to walk at least a block to have the privacy they needed to apparate. She marveled at his calm tone of voice, the casual way he said it somehow laced with a dark promise.

“Please don’t end up in Azkaban.” She pleaded and he turned her, making her face him, his hands hooked on either side of her face and he dipped to kiss her lips delicately.

“Hermione, I have not avoided going there this long to leave you for that wretched place. I assure you, when I have finished with him he will wish he never took the antidote.”

“I feel so stupid, I shouldn’t have given him the chance.” She sighed, and he guided her into walking again, she pressed herself into his side and took a deep breath.

“Don’t, that is another one of those things that makes you exactly who you are, and it is one of the many reasons I love you.” He was looking ahead when she looked up at him and she smiled.

“And then I have you to be unforgiving, don’t I?” He smirked.

“Yes, you most certainly do.” They rounded the corner, apparating on the spot to the place Hermione considered home.


	19. Eighteen :.: Among Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Severus watched, only half listening as Hermione sat in the center of her group of friends. Her cat was sprawled happily across her lap and she was stroking his back, her face completely relaxed.

It was a scene he enjoyed, one he hoped to see many more times as their lives became more and more entwined with one another. He appreciated the way Harry and Draco kept their distance, the way Ginny stuck close to her.

He didn’t mind having them in his home if it made her happy. He thought he would certainly do anything to make it so.

He’d sent a letter by owl earlier that morning, requesting a response from her parents, and he was worried that he’d not received a reply yet. This could mean only one of two things, they were still impacted by whatever it was that made them act suspiciously- he suspected Imperius, he’d seen it enough times in the Dark Lord’s service. The only other option, to his mind, was that something had happened to them, an option he didn’t want to begin to consider.

If Weasley was escalating, doing things to hurt those around her it would inevitably hurt her. He would have found a way to cause more pain to his witch than all his time abusing her could have possibly done.

Hermione’s muggle parents were the weakest link, the ones he could easily injure.

Of course, he could attempt to do something to any one of her friends, they could fend for themselves, Harry had defeated the Dark Lord, Ginevra was an impressive foe in a duel, and Draco would sooner kill a threat to his family than ask questions. Especially after the threat that hung over his parents for so many long years when he was but a child.

“Severus, is everything okay?” Hermione was staring at him, snapping him from his thoughts and he blinked. He didn’t realize she’d been paying attention to him, that she would notice the slightest shift in his features and worry for him.

Merlin he loved the woman, she was so sweet, so caring.

He was going to bloody kill Weasley when he figured out exactly what the moron was up to.

He realized she was expecting an answer while he reflected on his love for her.

“I am fine, my dear, simply thinking, carry on with your chatter.” He smirked at the blush on her cheeks and turned back to the book in his hand, Crookshanks curled around his foot, settling in beside it and purring so violently he could feel the vibrations in his ankle.

He caught Hermione’s eye on the sight before she turned with a secretive smile on her face and jumped back into conversation with her friends.

They were discussing the strange behavior of her parents, and two of those in attendance, Draco being the odd man out, had known her parents well because of their time as friends in school.

They agreed that it was strange, that her parents would never act like that, they were nothing if not kind.

Severus cleared his throat, his eyes locked on the group still and four sets of eyes turned to him.

“I think, perhaps, we should schedule a meeting for another time, at this moment I need to discuss something privately with Hermione.” Harry’s mouth formed into an ‘o’ and Ginny gave a little nod, Draco stood, dusting himself off and came to bid Severus farewell first.

He escorted them out, Hermione standing beside him and once they were alone he turned to her.

“It is not my wish to worry you, Hermione.” He began, touching her cheek delicately with the palm of his hand. She exhaled, watching him with wide amber eyes, she wet her lips, waiting for him to carry on.  
“I wrote your parents earlier in the day, I’m afraid that despite it being well past supper they have still not replied.”

“You don’t think something happened to them, do you?” She pursed her lips, looking worried.

“I think that you need the option to go and check on them, in case something has happened.” He was quite proud of himself for dancing around that particular question. He was, on the best of days, a negative person. There was no sense in over worrying her.

“So, you think something has happened.” Both her eyebrows shot up and he took a deep breath.

Clever witch she was, she had him figured out, didn’t she?

“I can get nothing past you, my Hermione.” She turned her face to kiss his palm gently and pulled away, straightening her robes.

“Muggle clothes, and then we will go check on them.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Must I?”

“It isn’t as if they are that much different than your daily attire.” She snorted, preceding him up the stairs. He followed, grumbling all the way with a bright orange cat on his heels.

“Says you.” He griped, when they made it to their room and she pulled out a black shirt from his armoire, her eyes drifting across the soft fabric and her fingers caressing the buttons.

“Because you need seven hundred layers to feel comfortable?” She cocked an eyebrow at him as she lay the shirt on the bed, his usual black trousers were typically acceptable.

He had to admit, she did her best to make him comfortable, so far, at least. They’d only had a muggle outing one other time, and that had been to one of her favorite shops, he’d not had to give up his robes and frockcoat for too terribly long.

Setting to work unbuttoning his frockcoat he watched as she vanished into the loo, the door cracked behind her while she changed. He could just see small flashes of soft skin before he forced his attention back to his own dressing.

Hermione came back, dressed in jeans and a blue shirt that clung to her soft curves in the most flattering of ways. He wanted to touch her. Gods, it grew more difficult every day to keep his distance. He held himself back, however, knowing how uncomfortable it made her.

He had an idea on that, one he would present to her as soon as they had the Weasley problem properly dealt with.

He was finishing the last of the buttons on the black shirt when she stepped up behind him, her little fingers swept the hair from inside his collar and trailed through it delicately, inciting a groan that he was powerless to stop.

She tied the hair back with a small ribbon and he turned to look at her, entranced by her face.

“I like to see your face.” She gave him a cheeky smile and he grunted, catching her in a short embrace before pulling away.

“I can’t imagine why, silly girl. Shall we get this over with now?” He pushed the hair back from her face with a delicate hand and she nodded.

“Can we just, can we have Harry and Draco join us? If Ron is there, or something has happened to them I’d rather you could stay with me.” He was suddenly very aware of the anxiety she’d been doing an incredible job of hiding from him. Severus sighed, bringing her back into his arms and he wondered, could she hear the way his heart sped when she lay her head against his chest?

“Of course, anything you need.” He kissed the top of her head and released her, she sniffed and gave a slight nod while he moved through the manor to his office, that more often than not went unused by him. Hermione had taken a liking to it.

Perhaps he should think of it as her office? It was certainly more fitting.

He scrawled a quick letter to the Malfoy trio and shook his head at the thought again. He didn’t think he’d ever fully wrap his mind around the odd couple- trio?

“I’m certain they’ll meet us there.” He commented, spotting her standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe and she nodded, giving him a long look.

“We should go then, I’m worried.”

“I know, love, I’m certain they are okay, if it was the Imperius they may be sleeping off the effects.” He spoke low, and calm, hoping to transfer some of that calm to her.

“I hope you’re right.” She took his offered arm as he passed her in the doorway. They would apparate into the Granger’s back yard, the easiest way to arrive there. Hermione had set up disillusionment wards so that the neighbors wouldn’t see her arriving and leaving just after she’d passed her apparition test.

He spun them in place and they arrived in the Granger’s backyard with little issue. Hermione held on to him for a long moment, fighting away the dizziness caused by side-along and he stared into the darkened house.

“I have a bad feeling, Severus.” She whispered, and he glanced to her, a strange feeling turning his own stomach.

“I do as well, my sweet. We will wait for the Malfoys here.” She nodded in agreement, leaning into his side and affording him the opportunity to wrap his arm around her shoulders. He held her tight, worried for what they would find inside.

He could feel it, the heaviness of dark magic in the air.


	20. Nineteen :.: Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Stepping into her childhood home was like stepping into a foreign world.

Nothing looked as it should, none of the furnishings were as they should be, nothing was right.

Her mum had been so strict on cleanliness, on order, and what she was seeing was the exact opposite of that. There were dishes, piled on the small table that sat in the middle of the living room. Books were strewn everywhere, the rug was bunched and sideways on the floor, the telly was on.

Hermione couldn’t help but grimace and cling to Severus at the sight, her hand over her mouth as she gazed around the room.

And her parents, they lay on the floor, their bodies unmoving.

She turned her face into Severus’ side and cried, her breaths turning to hiccupping sobs.

“Oh, ‘Mione…” Ginny trailed, coming into the room with them and spotting the sprawled forms of both Grangers. She sobbed more loudly and Severus shushed her, wrapping a muffliato charm around them so that they wouldn’t be heard speaking if there was anyone in the house.

“Harry, Draco, go upstairs and check for Weasley, and whoever helped him with this.” It was obvious even to Hermione that more than just her parents had been staying in her family home.

“Yes sir.” Harry pulled Draco up the stairs while Ginny rubbed the upper part of Hermione’s back, where she could reach.

“Miss Weasley, you have finished your healing qualifications yes?” The redhead nodded, Hermione glanced at her.

“I’m so proud of you by the way.” She managed through sniffles before turning back into Severus’ chest, she could feel him stroking his fingers through her hair, soothing her.

“I’ll check them.” She knew what he was asking and moved to the prone forms immediately looking for a pulse on either. She shook her head, giving Hermione a sad look.

“They survived the war to be killed by my bad choices.” She rasped, her fingers dug into his shirt, finding skin closer beneath it because of his much more muggle attire.

He kissed the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry, my love, I must notify the ministry.” He pulled back enough to look in her face and she nodded, letting him abandon her onto a chair in the kitchen where Ginny joined her. The two young women embraced, Hermione seeking comfort where she could have it, looking around her parents’ home.

“I can’t believe they’re gone…” She trailed, a fresh onslaught of tears burning from her eyes. They sat like that for thirty minutes before Severus finally came back to her and swept her into his arms. Draco came bounding down the stairs just as Severus reentered the house.

“I’m not sure who he was with but they were here, they fled out of the window upstairs, we almost had them.” Draco panted.  
“Harry jumped out the window after them, never seen him move so fast, mad man he is.” He groaned, panting still and flopped into a seat beside Ginny who pulled herself into his lap and kissed him delicately on his sweat soaked temple.

“He’ll chase them to the end of the earth I’m afraid.” Hermione rasped, her eyes were fluttering as Severus held her to his chest, cradling her lower back in his hands and allowing her to lay her head against him.

“The ministry will be here soon, they will make certain the neighbors saw nothing unusual. You two should find P- Harry, he will need to be here when they arrive.

Hermione squeaked when he pulled her off of her feet and settled into the chair she’d only just occupied with her on his lap. She was growing accustomed to being held there, it seemed to be his favorite place to cradle her when she was upset. Not that she was complaining.

Because she wasn’t.

She was still having a hard time wrapping her mind around the idea that her parents were dead in the other room, however.

She hoped it had been quick.

The tears began again, flowing down her cheeks in waves that shouldn’t have been possible.

“I hate him, I hate him Severus.” She groaned into the black fabric that covered his chest, he stroked her back lovingly. She heard shifting as Ginny and Draco stood to leave, each placing a soft kiss to the top of her head as they went before leaving her and Severus alone in her parents’ home.

“I know, love, I know. I’m going to take care of him. I assure you, this will not go unpunished.” He pulled her back, black eyes searched her face and she marveled at the little flecks of silver there, they caught the dim kitchen light, light that flickered at the arrival of more wizards and witches.  
“Do you trust me?” He rasped, ignoring the knock at the closed kitchen door that lead into the backyard.

“More than anyone in the world.” She breathed and he stroked her cheek, settling her onto the floor in front of him on her feet.

“I will take care of this.” He stood, leaving her standing there watching him, her arms wrapped around herself.

“Come now, who would be more likely to commit such a heinous act than the witch’s ex, the man who abused her and forced her into an unbreakable vow not to leave him.” Severus cocked an eyebrow, he was stood outside, watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye on the back steps speaking with a ministry official.

He was speaking with an old Slytherin classmate and acquaintance Phillip Avery, older brother of one of his former death eater accomplices. They had been close throughout the war, often feeding one another information to keep themselves and those important to them alive.

“He abused her?” Phillip cocked an eyebrow at him and Severus nodded, casting another long glance at his witch.

“So many heinous things, and that’s only what I’ve seen. She can hardly be touched, she shies away from even the most delicate of interactions.” He spoke softly, trying not to allow his voice to carry.

Hermione’s voice however carried very well when she screeched at the top of her lungs.

“Don’t touch me! No! No! Stay away!” Severus turned, catching sight of the baffled wizard from the Ministry reaching out to catch the witch as she scrambled in an attempt to escape him.

He abandoned his conversation, black eyes locked on the sight before him. The Ministry wizard was muttering, looking frustrated and calling Hermione any number of names while still trying to grab her.

She cried out again just as Severus scooped her into his arms and she buried herself in his chest.

He was pleased she was at least familiar enough with him that she didn’t panic further, that would have been fun to explain.

“She’s had quite a day, sir, I think perhaps grabbing for a woman who begs you do not touch her should make one back away, not continue to advance.” He growled out, his hands cradled the back of her head as he held her to him, her snuffling was dying down and he just wanted to take her home and hide her away from everything.

She’d been through so much, he only wanted to shield her.

“And who are you?” The man grumbled out, his stubbled chin wiggling as he spoke. Hermione wrapped her arms around his back, pulling herself closer to him until he felt he might suffocate.

“He, is Severus Snape, a Merlin First Class Hero and personal friend. You shouldn’t disrespect him, Tibereus, he could have your job, you know.” Phillip sauntered up to them and Severus gave him a grateful nod.

“I need to take Hermione home, now, she’s been through enough for one day, wouldn’t you think?”

“We’ll be in touch if we need anything. You said Malfoy is coming back with Potter when he finds him?”

Severus nodded. “Yes, he and Ginevra should be returning with young Harry any moment, he chased after the Dunderhead and his accomplice when they found them in the upstairs of the Granger home.”

“We’ll have it sorted soon then. Good evening Severus, Miss Granger.” Phillip winked and Severus almost rolled his eyes, would have if he weren’t so grateful.

That wink meant he would know as soon as they found Weasley. If he didn’t find him first.

It also meant that he would be allowed to have a _conversation_ with the menace, when they found him.

“Thank you, Avery.” He spun, apparating them home with a soft pop.

The second they were in their home, in their room Hermione pushed him back into the bed, curling against him fully dressed and held on for dear life.

“Don’t leave me, please, don’t ever leave me.” She cried and he hugged her tighter, holding the sobbing witch against him with everything he was.

“Hermione, I swear to you, I will be here for you always.” He bent down, catching her lips in a gentle kiss before kicking the boots from his feet and off the edge of the bed.

A long silence ensued and just when the thought she may be asleep she groaned and shifted against him, whining in a most unbecoming manner. Not that he would complain, she’d been through so much he’d forgive her any moaning and groaning she wished to do.

“Are you uncomfortable, my dear?” He breathed into her hair and she nodded, shifting again. He sighed, and rolled her, his fingers finding the edge of her top as he looked into her eyes.  
“Do you trust me, Hermione?”

“More than anyone in the world.” She sighed out again, her eyes locked on his as he pulled the top over her head and tossed it off the edge of the bed, he moved to her jeans and undid them, she kicked her shoes off the foot of the bed and helped shimmy the jeans off of her hips and she was finally dressed down into her underclothes. He forced himself not to stare, not to touch, and pulled her back against him.

“What about you?” She spoke quietly, her voice tired.

“I am afraid, my dear, that your comfort overcomes all of my needs. I have no desire to make you uncomfortable by placing myself into a state of undress.” He remembered that morning in his bathing room, the way she’d begged him to stop, the way she’d torn herself away from him.

He never wanted to see that look on her face again.

Trembling fingers came up and began undoing the buttons on his shirt.

“I trust you, Severus, you won’t make me do anything.” She exhaled and it was like she’d taken a weight and pulled it from his shoulders, thrusting it away from him. He allowed her to undo the buttons, and slip the fabric from his shoulders.

She helped relieve him of his trousers as well and he pried the covers from beneath them.

Taking her in his arms and pulling her to him he allowed her to wrap herself around him as she did every night before he covered them, he grasped their wands, discarded beside her in the bed and settled them together on his bedside table, his own closer to him.

“Goodnight, my sweet Hermione.” He kissed her forehead, she was already drifting into a deep sleep.

He hated to think they had so much more to do with the loss of her parents. He would help her every step of the way but he had little to no knowledge of muggle funeral proceedings.

He’d abandoned that part of himself after all, his bastard father had made him want nothing to do with that blasted bit of his heritage.

He stroked the hair from Hermione’s face and kissed her head one more time.

Merlin he loved the witch, he hoped she understood just how much, if not now, someday.


	21. Twenty :.: Mourning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Severus stood beside Hermione. She was dressed in a long black skirt and long sleeved black blouse that suited her very nicely. She had foregone makeup, commenting to him how she would only cry it all off in the end.

He assured her that he preferred her without it, he adored being able to see her natural beauty. He stroked a hand down her back, his fingers coming up to grasp hers and she glanced at him, giving him a half-hearted smile.

He wanted to take all of her pain and put it on himself, to stop her hurting, impossible. Her parents had been tortured to death with the Cruciatus curse, the Ministry Aurors had regretfully informed them. Hermione had collapsed into their bed for two full days afterwards, leaving him watching over her, forcing her to eat when he could convince her. She was so miserable he was surprised she’d been able to force herself up when they’d released the bodies to them.

The deaths, according to the muggle police had been because of a robbery gone wrong, the criminal had escaped and that was the end of it, another unsolved case on top of thousands more.

Hermione greeted an elderly woman who kissed both of her cheeks, she embraced her and when she pulled back she gave the woman an affectionate look before motioning to Severus.

“Grandmum, this is Severus Snape, he is my fiancé.” The woman looked him over before giving him a sly smile. Something he never would have expected to see on an elderly muggle’s face, though he had to admit his experience with elderly muggles was limited.

“A pleasure to meet you, Madam.” Her smile broadened.

“I knew you’d be rid of that Weasley idiot, too good for him you were.” The woman hugged Hermione again, kissed her cheek and glanced to the gathering of family for the burial.  
“I’m just sorry your mum and dad had to leave us so soon.” A tear formed in the old woman’s eye and Severus produced a handkerchief, handing it off to the now sobbing old woman.

“Grandmum, oh, daddy loved you. I’m so sorry!” She hugged the woman who patted her shoulder.

“A parent should never be forced to bury their child. You have my deepest sympathies.” Severus bowed gently, his eyes went wide when the woman wrapped him in a warm hug and he fought the urge to struggle away. She smelled of mothballs and musk, quite unpleasant. But she was also warm, and kind, and she reminded him quite a lot of Hermione.

“You are a sweet man, take care of our Hermione.” She patted his cheek and walked to the double casket Hermione had opted for. They would be buried together, in the same grave, holding one another for eternity.

It had been something the witch had insisted upon and she was, as she had proven in many circumstances, a force to be reckoned with when she had her mind set.

The funeral proceedings went much the same way. It never ceased to stop his heart in his chest when she introduced him as her fiancé and her family greeted him with warm welcomes and pats on the back. He received many handshakes and approving smiles, and even a hug from a few of her younger cousins.

It made the atmosphere different. The Granger family, and by extension the family of her mother were both warm, and welcoming. It was no wonder to him that Hermione was such a sweet, resilient woman.

To see the family she came from he had no difficulty seeing how she’d come to be such a magnificent person.

She was exhausted when it was done, he held her hand, watching as she sat in one of the last of the folding chairs. The casket was lowered and her family gone. He stayed with her, watching her as she sat with her head down and her eyes on the ground that now held her parents.

“I hope you didn’t mind my introductions. I know we are nowhere near that, but- it’s so much easier to say, it saves me explanation.” She exhaled, and he caught her fingers in his, wrapping their hands together as they sat side by side.

“Hermione, when you are ready I do hope to marry you, you are my witch, there is no escaping my love now, my dear.” He leant over and urged her face up, kissing her gently on the lips.

She smiled into the kiss and the feeling spurred him forward, he cupped her cheek delicately as he kissed her, long and gentle. It was his offering of comfort, his attempt to give her something to hold on to.

She could hold on to him, forever if she wished it.

When they pulled away she gave him a soft smile, her fingers coming up to stroke his cheek.

“My parents would have adored you, Severus, even Grandmum Granger loved you.” She sighed, glancing to the brown earth that covered her parents’ place of eternal rest.  
“She doesn’t just hug anyone, you know.” She gave him a soft look and he grunted.

“Could have fooled me, she was quite adept at it.” He grumbled but the affection that bloomed in his chest could not be denied.

“Thank you, for being here with me.” She watched him with wide eyes as he stood and pulled her to her feet. He began to lead her away, worried she would catch cold sitting outside in the cool, moist air.

“Let’s go home, love, let me take care of you today.” He drew her toward him, wrapping her in his arms and she glanced back at the grave before giving him a soft nod and allowing him to spin them into apparition.

Once in their home Severus drew his witch a bath, filling it with bubbles scented with her favorite bathing potions and ushered her inside. While she relaxed in the bath he brewed her a calming draught, just in case, and ordered Pree, who still adored the witch, to cook her something light and easy on the stomach. The elf responded immediately with a smile. He changed the sheets on their bed, certain to choose a fresh set that smelled of him and was softer than those they normally slept on. He cast a warming charm across the sheets and set her a comfortable chair in front of the vanity he’d added to their room expressly for her.

When she exited wrapped in a soft bath robe he ushered her to the chair and pulled her hair from its towel, watching in wonder as it dropped to her waist.

“I love your hair, Hermione.” He exhaled, his long fingers stroking through the locks and she moaned at the soft tugging on her scalp. He gently worked a wide-toothed comb through her curly locks and pulled them back, running his fingers through them again and again before brushing through the caramel length gently.

“I didn’t realize you were with me for my hair.” She smirked at him in the vanity mirror and he cocked an eyebrow at her. He wasn’t sure why she was with him, she was so beautiful, her long hair falling around her, her sharp eyes, her sweet lips.

He tried not to dwell on himself, looking away when he reached his own reflection in favor of beginning to plait her drying locks down the back of her head.

When he finished he reached up, massaging her temple until her head fell back against his stomach and her eyes were closed.

He smiled to himself, his only goal to bring her comfort.

Pree appeared in their room with her late lunch and her eyes snapped open at the smell, he smirked.

“How does a late lunch in bed suit my sweet witch?” He watched her eyes focus before landing on his face and she gave him a broad grin.

“What did I do to deserve you?” She asked as he pulled her from her chair and lead her to the bed, settling her in and watching as she pulled the bathing robe from her shoulders to fall around her, he took the material and hung it from the back of the chair she’d been occupying before bringing her the tray, the calming draught beside her plate.

“You were magnificent.”

“When will I wake up and find myself back with Ron?” She stared down at the tray of food, her fingers clenching and unclenching.

He caught her chin, pulling her face to look up into his.

“I will never let that bastard lay a hand on you again, do you understand me?” He couldn’t help the ferocity in his voice but she only nodded and turned back to her plate, she cast him a glance when she took her first bite of the salmon and moaned at the flavor.

“Are you not going to sit with me, eat with me?”

“Do you wish for me to?” He answered, feeling hesitant, he was trying to make this day entirely about her, about her needs, it discomforted him to think of turning it into a day about himself.

“Of course I do, I want you beside me, please?” She tipped her head and he pulled himself into the bed on her other side, his back against the headboard as he watched her eat.

She held her fork out, a flaky piece of fish dangled from its end for him to bite and he furrowed his brow.

“Just try it, my crow.” She smirked when he tensed at the nickname and he shot her a dark look, leaning forward he took the fish into his mouth and sighed at the subtle flavor.

Merlin that elf could cook!

They finished her meal together in peace and silence and when they were done Pree retrieved their tray before Hermione settled into his side, her arms wrapped around his chest.

“Now, what else shall I do for you, my witch?” He questioned, his fingers playing with hers as he stared at their hands together, she blushed, giving him a shy look.

“Will you kiss me more?” She sounded nervous, like he would deny her request.

He supposed he would, if he were an idiot.

“I believe that can be arranged, and how would this be most comfortable for you? I don’t want to frighten you again, Hermione.”

He thought about his idea, his brilliant little lightbulb to stop her being frightened, he wasn’t sure he was ready to reveal his idea to her yet, however.

“Is there a way to stop…” She trailed, wetting her lips. “…To stop the memories of Ron?”

He sucked a breath, so she was thinking along the same lines as he was, and if that was the case then, perhaps now was the time to employ his idea.

“I must ask once more then, Hermione, do you trust me?”

“More than anyone in the world.” She touched his cheek and he smiled, a genuine smile before he reached up to cover her hand with his own.

“Then yes, I have an idea on that.” Her eyes lit up, looking as if he’d just offered to hand her the world.

“Really? Oh that’s fantastic!” Her hands shook. “I want so badly to be,” she blushed, “to be intimate, I just can’t shake those memories.”

He watched her with wide eyes, his breath caught in his chest. Did she just say that? She wants to be intimate with him? Circe! What was he getting himself in to?


	22. Twenty-One :.: Brilliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Hermione watched Severus, her nerves jumping with anticipation at his idea. He was the most intelligent wizard she’d ever known, it made sense to her that he would have a solution to her problem.

She wanted to be with him, to show him just how much she really did love him. There was just something in the building to the act that made her mind lock up. All she could remember was Ron, Ron’s hands, and violence.

He was her first, her only, she had no prior experience to compare his rough handling to.

“It involves my entering your mind and helping to coax you away from those memories, I have to add though Hermione, it may not work.” He gave her a serious look, holding both of her hands in his. She nodded, wanting more than anything the comfort he offered her.

He’d been so warm, so kind, so thoughtful of her, she wanted to give him something back and take from him everything he offered. It was something she’d thought on, especially on long nights when she couldn’t sleep but didn’t want to wake him. Nights when she lay awake, staring at his peaceful face and thinking how lucky she was to have ended up in his bed, his home.

He was her home now, she’d lost everything save a few friends and of course her extended family, who had no idea who, or what she was.

“How will you keep me from thinking of those things?” She pulled back, looking into his eyes. She couldn’t understand how she had ever thought him ugly, he was so handsome to her. Striking with his sharp- dark eyes and long black hair framing his face. The lines of age only added to his allure, wizening him and making him look regal.

He was her crow, her dark wizard, and he loved her, he wanted to be with her. It meant the world to her.

“I will be able to speak with you, no matter how my mouth may be otherwise occupied.” His voice took on a heady tone and her eyes fluttered closed against her will. Merlin the things he could do to her with that voice. She could feel his lips on her cheek, trailing down her jaw to her neck and she fought to clear her mind.

“You only need to let me in, Hermione.” He coaxed, his hands on her hips as he helped her lay back, his long, firm body leaned over her as he shifted her position, his lips barely leaving her exposed neck.

“Oh- oh-kay…” She trailed on a gasp, she could feel him pushing against the walls of her mind, the feeble barriers she’d taught herself to construct. The first joining of their minds sent bolts of lightning through her, her body shivering at the closeness. Severus continued his ministrations, his fingers trailing her hip, pushing up the soft top she wore and letting his fingers trail her bare skin.

She gasped and his mouth took hers, his tongue slipping between her parted lips to taste her, coaxing her into cooperation as he hovered over her still, balanced on one elbow while the other trailed the bare skin of her stomach.

_Ron was pinching her, shooting sharp pains through her hip…_

**_He isn’t here, Hermione, it is only us now._** She relaxed at the smoothness of his voice in her mind, her body responding readily to the way his fingers played across her skin. She could feel her desire growing, coiling in the most pleasant of ways, as it never had before.

**_There, that is my girl, my beautiful witch. I adore drawing my fingers across your skin. I love the way you feel, Hermione. The soft sounds you make, the way your body presses toward mine, searching for something._ **

**_Do you know what it is you search for, my witch?_ **

Her eyes snapped open, her fingers were bunched in his hair and she could see him at such closeness, his eyes closed, thick black lashes resting atop his cheekbones as he kissed her delicately, massaging her lips with his own. His tongue tasted sharp, like firewhiskey and something very warm, pleasant and sweet.

She pressed her chest up into his, urging his hand upward with her motions and he followed her lead, pressing his hand forward until he cupped a breast with gently fingers, their tips played across the tight peek of a nipple.

**_I will make you feel such pleasure, my sweet witch, you will unravel at my fingertips, never again will you think of the past, of another, there will be only one cemented in your mind._ **

His fingertips trailed her breasts again, each nipple receiving a soft stroke of attention before he pulled back, breathing heavily and staring into her eyes.

“Does it help, my love?” Hermione could barely open her eyes, she felt as if she were held together by a thread, ready to unravel before him.

“Don’t stop.” She managed to breathe, the only coherent thought she could form and he smirked, drawing his hand down the side of her face and trailing his fingers across her collarbone. She held her eyes open, looking into his as he caught the hem of her top and helped pull it over her head.

Her torso was exposed for his eyes and he took pleasure trailing them down her body, subtle curves and milky skin with a freckle here and there. He wanted to kiss each and every one.

The scars across her body, especially the bite mark atop her breast made him simmer with rage, rage that didn’t belong in the bedroom- so he stuffed it down.

“I love you.” He breathed, dipping to kiss down her torso, his fingers finding the lace band of her knickers and looking up at her for permission. She gave a soft nod, soft eyes wide and he pulled them down her hips, kissing a path down her hip and thigh in their wake before discarding them as well over the edge of the bed.

Hermione could only watch in nervous silence as his eyes examined her, exploring her body and just when she thought she may not be able to fight the urge to cover herself any longer he grasped her fingers in his.

His hands held hers up above her head, his weight carefully distributed as he hovered over her, still fully clothed and she whimpered at the sensation of his hair trailing cool across her chest. His lips blazed a path from the valley of her breasts to each peek, his wicked tongue flicking out for a taste when he reached each.

“Severus…” She trailed, wanting- needing something more and he exhaled, giving her a long look from beneath the curtain of his black hair, she shivered, she wanted skin, needed his skin against her.

He held her loosely, so she could break away at any point and she took advantage of that, reaching up and undoing the first three buttons of his black dress shirt. He watched her curiously, black eyes never leaving her own.

She trailed her hand down, undoing buttons as she went and paused at place where the shirt tucked in to his trousers. She pulled it free, her teeth working her lip.

_Ron made her undress him, his wand just to the side as she cried, not wanting to remove another piece of his clothing and draw the time any nearer._

**_It is you and I, Hermione. I will never let him touch you again. Feel me, it is my skin beneath your hands, it is not his cruel body with yours, it is mine. It lives to serve you, it wants only to make you happy, only to make you feel safe, and loved._** He spoke in her mind again and she shivered, the thoughts of Ron dissolving at his bringing her back to the present.

He kept the panic at bay and she moved her small fingers down to the button and zip on his trousers, working them free and pushing the shirt from his shoulders. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Do you want me to take them off?” She nodded, still chewing her lip and he freed it gently with his thumb, kissing the abused flesh before standing and dropping his trousers to the floor and stepping out of them.

“And the shorts.”

“Are you certain?” She could see the large tent in his shorts, the way his manhood pressed angrily against the constricting fabric.

They were doing this, tonight, he’d helped her through so much already, and he was helping her through this. She hoped if she could work past the trauma of the last year she would be able to do this with him more often.

She blushed at the thought, and the sight of his fingers grasping the waistband of his black shorts.

“I’m beyond certain.” She shifted to the edge of the bed, sitting up and hooking her own fingers in the stretchy waistband. She pulled them down, her eyes instantly focused on the glaring red head of his cock right there. It was different than Ron’s longer, and thicker to begin with, with thick purple veins that ran its length.

She wet her lips and looked up at him, wondering what was going on through his head as he stared down at her, giving her a moment to gather her wits it seemed.

He groaned in surprise when her mouth latched on to the head and sucked gently, bobbing lightly.

“Hermione…” He groaned, pulling back and stepping away from her, she gave him a somber look.

“Was I not doing it right?” She looked almost hurt and he came back to stand right in front of her, the way she licked her lips made his cock twitch.

“After what he- I just- if you’re not comfortable.” She smiled, her hand coming forward to grasp his shaft and gently leading him closer, her eyes still locked on his.

“I never thought you’d stutter at me.” She wrapped her lips around his tip again, this time laving delicately while holding his shaft to keep him from moving away.

He brushed his fingers through the top of her hair, careful not to mess up his work on the length of it.

“Okay, enough, this is for you.” He pushed her gently back by her shoulders, knowing he would lose himself if he allowed his mind to be caught up in the moment, she lay back, looking up at him with longing amber eyes and he couldn’t help but crawl up the length of her body.

He had never been quite willing to kiss a woman who’d just fellated him but with her the decision came easily and he kissed her long, deeply, finding he quite enjoyed the taste of himself on her lips.

“You will kill me, love.” He rasped out, working his way down her jaw and neck, kissing and sucking at the skin as her fingers spread across his back, the soft ripple of muscles bumping beneath her searching hands.

“I need to feel you, Severus please.” She pleaded when he nipped at her nipple and she cried out, trying to pull him back up by the tips of her fingers against the expanse of his back. The thickness of scars moving under her hands as they stroked him.

She wanted to kiss every scar, take away every pain he’d ever suffered.

He was her everything, her home.

“Are you certain, we can another time, Hermione, I don’t want you to rush.” He kissed her lips, pulling back to look her in the eyes, she hooked her legs around his waist and tugged his hips toward her. The second his thick member touched her core she moaned out and grasped him behind his head.

He kissed her, long and slow as he moved his hand down to help guide himself into her warmth. She wanted him.

Truly wanted him.

Her breath turned into a gasp when he filled her, his lips were locked on hers and she was making small keening noises into his mouth.

 ** _Only us, forever, I’ll never leave you Hermione. I’m here, you’re mine. My beautiful witch, my soft sweet love. I never want you to feel anything but pleasure._** She relaxed into him, his voice soothing away the last vestiges of hesitation as he began to move, rocking his hips against hers.

She moaned, kissing him with desperation, needing him, needing to feel him closer, warming her from the inside out.

She cried out when one of his long-fingered hands slipped between them and began to play at her sensitive clit, her eyes pinched closed as he hissed above her, thrusting faster, though somehow still taking care not to cause her discomfort.

She cried out, the orgasm from such overwhelming stimulation forced her eyes closed and her toes curled. He smirked, before his own completion stole any clear thought. He came with a grunt, filling her to the brim with not only his sated member but the warmth of his seed.

She groaned when he lay his weight on her gently and wrapped her arms around his back, his muscles still twitching as he buried his face in her neck.

“I love you, my crow.” She whispered into his ear, her fingers playing at the long hair that fell, sticky and slightly wet around his face. He kissed her neck, moving up to lay a delicately kiss behind her ear before removing himself from her and pulling her so that she lay with her head on his chest.

“I love you too, my Hermione.” He kissed the top of her head before both drifted into a peaceful rest.

They could worry about Ron tomorrow, she only wanted to bask in _him_.


	23. Twenty-Two :.: Joy in Sadness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Severus woke to the sensation of fingers twirling across his chest, his eyes opening to see the distracted gaze of Hermione on those fingers. He smiled to himself, watching her with interest as she drew patterns across his skin, the trail leaving behind prickles across his skin that made him close his eyes again.

“Good morning, love.” Hermione’s face turned, her eyes shooting up to meet his and she smiled, a soft, shy sort of smile that lifted his heart right into his throat. He didn’t think it was possible to love anyone more than he did this witch.

“Good morning, my crow.” Her eyes glimmered at the nickname and he chuckled, smoothing a finger through her hair. She must have freed it sometime in the morning hours because the curls tumbled around them prettily, catching the soft light of the sun filtering through the window.

“You slept well, I hope?” He pulled himself into a sitting position beneath her, leaving her head on his lap, a thin sheet all that separated her warm skin from his.

“I did, better than I ever have, I think.” He pushed his fingers into her curls and smiled, their eyes still locked together as he caressed the side of her head gently.

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

“Severus?”

“Hmm?” He was overjoyed just to be in the bed with her, comfortable, sharing small touches.

If someone had told him this was where he would be only a few short months ago- he would have laughed in their faces. He never could have imagined this was something that was within his grasp.

Thank Merlin for spurned witches.

“Will you make love to me again?” She sat up, her eyes on her hands that were folded in her lap, he groaned and caught her chin with his hand, moving her eyes up to his.

“So soon, are you certain?” She nodded, her tongue flicked out to wet her lips and he pressed forward, catching her lips with his.

Gods he would never have his fill of her!

“We’ve caught Weasley, though we’re having a difficult time identifying his accomplice. Also, there’s something you should know…” Phillip trailed, his eyes on Severus, his tone was soft in respect of Hermione, who sat beside him, her arms wrapped tightly around one of Severus’.

They’d been called shortly after he’d obliged her request and made love to her, two more times, while they were preparing for breakfast.

Weasley had been caught, but there was bad news.

“What could be worse than his accomplice getting away. What is going on?” Severus was hesitant, his gaze flickering from Hermione to Phillip. It was hard for him, something deep inside him was screaming that this was bad.

He just couldn’t figure out what about it was bad.

“He’s been obliviated, Severus- he, he doesn’t remember ever being married. He keeps talking about needing to get back to Hermione, to be there for the wedding.” Hermione was pale white when he looked down at her again. Even her lips had lost their pink sheen as he stared down at her, chewing her lip and gazing at Phillip with nervous intensity.

“Of course.” He bit out, Hermione reached up, a shaky hand turning his face to hers and stroking his jaw.

His eyes were locked with hers, his rage ebbing before vanishing entirely.

“Can we speak with him?” Phillip nodded, Severus turned to Hermione.

“What about the unbreakable vow?”

“Give me your arm.” She pulled her wand as he produced his arm, rolling his sleeve with marked difficulty so that she could expose the black markings of the vow on his arm.  
“Do you, Severus Snape, revoke the unbreakable vow made with Ronald Weasley, binding him to never come near me, Hermione Granger, again over the course of his natural life?”

Severus clenched his jaw, annoyance spiking through him. If the boy made even one false move he would eradicate him.

“I do.” The black marking broke, leaving Severus free of vows.

“I guess he sought help after all.” Hermione put her wand away and he grasped her hand in his, his lips pecking the knuckles on the back of her delicate hand.

“I doubt it was the kind of help you intended, love.”

“Could you excuse us?” Hermione shot a look to Phillip who nodded and left the room, leaving the couple to themselves for a few minutes.

“Severus.” He looked up, he could feel the worry across his features as she pulled back, wanting him to stand. He obliged and she wrapped her arms around his torso, her face buried in his chest. It never ceased to amaze him the way she fit against him, so right, his perfect little witch.

“Hermione- I…” She silenced him with a finger to his lips as she pulled back and looked him in the eye.

“I love you, Severus Snape, not Ronald Weasley, not anyone else, just you. No matter what has changed with him, no matter if he is the man I married more than a year ago, I love you. This is going to be hard, Severus, please don’t doubt me, I love you so much my heart nearly breaks with it.” She exhaled and he caught her face between his hands, dipping for a long, deep kiss.

His tongue begged entrance and she granted it, allowing her sweet taste of cinnamon to roll over his taste buds and fill him with her, with her essence.

“I love you too, Hermione. I’m sorry, I’m an insecure old man, ugly on the best of days, it is easy to see why you would want a young, handsome wizard over me.” He looked down, away from her, his insecurities once more getting the best of him until she caught his attention with raised eyebrows and wet her lips.

“Severus, please, you are young yet for a wizard, you still have more than seventy years left to live if you take care of yourself, and you aren’t ugly! You are so handsome, my wonderful wizard, my crow.” She pulled up on her toes and kissed him, his lips, the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his chin, his jaw, his nose. He chuckled and pushed her back just as the door opened again, whispering to her.

“You are insane, but I am glad for it.” He kissed her cheek and turned to Phillip who was giving them an expectant look.

“We’ve taken his wand but he is still very volatile, he wants to know where she is.” He shot a pointed look to Hermione.  
“Thinks we’ve kidnapped her.” A snort pulled itself from Severus before he could stop himself.

Hermione shot him a sharp look.

“Be nice.”

“I make no promises, my sweet little witch.” He grunted and she flushed bright red. He couldn’t help the smirk that pulled its way to his face, dipping to whisper in her ear.  
“My Hermione.” He felt her shiver and smirked again, standing to his full height and motioning to Phillip.

“Lead the way, Avery.” The man sighed and gave a nod, leading the two toward the room that held a frustrated Ronald Weasley.

“’Mione! There you are!” Ron tried to wrap her in his arms when they entered the room and she backed away, stepping behind Severus with a red flush on her cheeks that must have betrayed her being upset.

Ron gave her a hurt look and she sighed, stepping up beside Severus and motioning to one of three chairs in the room.

“Why don’t you sit down Ron, we need to talk.” She exhaled and he gave her a look that reminded her quite a bit of a kicked puppy before he nodded, and sat.

She took the chair opposite him, Severus taking the one directly beside her and pulling her into his side, the chair legs screeched across the marble floor.

She shot him a dark look but sighed, leaning back into her seat and crossing her legs.

He draped an arm across the back of her chair and settled. She knew no matter how much he trusted in her love he would still feel the need to assert his dominance over Ron.

It was ridiculous, but she let it slide, this time.

“Ron, what’s the last thing you remember?” She asked, after straightening the skirt of her sundress, he swallowed, clearing his throat and giving her a longing look.

“We were with mum and dad, at the burrow, celebrating our engagement.” He looked between Hermione and Severus.  
“’Mione, why are you sitting with the bat instead of me?” He looked hurt and she steeled her heart against the ache it caused, he couldn’t remember everything he’d done to her. Couldn’t remember their lives together.

But she could, and she would never be able to forget- she hardly thought she’d be able to forgive.

“Because we are a couple Ron, Severus and I have been together for more than a month now.” She informed, rather bluntly, trying to keep things as plain as possible. She didn’t need him thinking he had a chance.

“But- how? We just- we were just engaged!” He kicked at the table, skidding it toward them, Severus stopped it with a hand and shot the redhead a dangerous look.

“That’s why, and how, Ron we were married for a year. You’ve been obliviated. You beat me, you hurt me- you almost killed me.” Her voice cracked a couple of times and she settled into Severus’ side further.

“So you went to this git!? We could have gotten help! I told you, I’ll fix my anger! I don’t mean to get so mad!” He exclaimed, slapping his hands down on the table. Hermione turned her face into Severus’ side, the wizard growled dangerously.

“Enough!” Severus shouted, his voice rising to a level Hermione had never heard before.   
“Sit down and stop this nonsense at once Weasley!” He demanded, his tone commanding and the boy did so immediately, falling into his seat and staring at Severus with wide eyes. Hermione brushed her hand down his numerous buttons, reveling in the familiarity of their coolness against his skin.

“Severus?” Hermione looked up at him and his face changed immediately, taking on a softer look than it had had only moments before as he gazed down at her. She smiled at him, gods she loved him.

“Yes, love?”

“I think you should use Legilimens, I don’t know who his accomplice was, but they can’t be better at hiding memories than you are at finding them.” She offered and he watched her, lips pursed.

“You want to know?”

“I want the man who helped him kill my parents in Azkaban. There is no joy there, Severus, I can live knowing that I have found joy in the sadness with you, while they suffer for what they’ve done.” He watched her, black eyes sparkling.

Hermione wasn’t a typically vengeful person, there were times, however, when it seemed necessary.

This was one of those times.

She wanted her revenge, and she would have it.

They never should have touched her parents.


	24. Twenty-Three :.: In His Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Severus glanced to Hermione one more time, giving her the chance to change her mind. She didn’t, she gave him a firm nod and he clutched her hand in his, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles once more.

She gave him a worried look.

“No matter what I see I cannot love you less.” He spoke quietly, for her ears only and she smiled at him, tugging his head down into a kiss that he could do nothing but reciprocate. It took everything in him to pull away, turning back to a glowering Weasley.

Hermione blushed up at him softly before stepping back, giving the two men room.

“I’m not gunna let you do this!” Ron growled, Severus cocked an eyebrow at the idiot boy.

“You can’t honestly think you are capable of stopping me, Mr. Weasley?” His sharp voice cut through the air and he took pride in his ability to command those around him despite his time away from the Dark Lord and teaching.

“Legilimens.” It drifted on a breath and he was immediately pulled into the boy’s mind.

It wasn’t easy, his thoughts were muddled, the memories of the last year buried deep within his subconscious, somewhere they wouldn’t be easily found. He picked through them, appalled when he came upon some that made him want to return to his witch, to hold her in his arms.

He was forced to watch as Hermione was brutally beaten, her arms shielding her face while the boy lashed out at her, striking her anywhere he could hit. He watched as she was raped, pulling from the memories as quickly as possible and delving deeper, trying to find the boy’s accomplice.

He wanted out, out of the sick head he’d delved willingly in to. He needed to kiss Hermione, hold her to him, love her until she couldn’t remember the pain she’d suffered. He found it, the memory he was looking for.

Weasley was sitting in a pub, drinking a bear with another man and talking about his recent loss of his wife.

_“You realize of course that you don’t have to go anywhere near her to make her regret what she did, right?” A brunette male, bulky and deeply tanned sat across from a slightly smaller redhead, their conversation quiet as they downed another pint of beer between them._

_The redhead had come to consult his friend on what she should do about his wayward wife. Surely there was a way to get her back, or at the very least make her wish she’d never left him, he knew there had to be a way._

_And she’d never specified what kind of help he was supposed to be seeking for his anger issues. To his mind this was helping. His friend would help him get even, and that would certainly help with his anger._

_“Who would she visit with first? What would she do when she’s finally removed herself from hiding?” The other man asked and Ron scratched his chin, taking a long swig of his beer before the lightbulb went off._

_“Her parents.” He nodded, as if confirming his own answer and the other man’s face split in a broad smile._

_“And they’re muggles, aren’t they?” His smile was wicked, his perfect white teeth glinted even in the dim light of the pub._

_“Yes, of course they are.” Ron answered, looking a bit lost, his friend rolled bright blue eyes at him._

_“Then all you need to do is Imperius them, make them hate her and the bat, or better yet, make them turn her against him.” He gave a manipulative, calculating smile._

_Ron wrinkled his nose._

_“I don’t think I can maintain an imperius on two people, and ‘sides, ‘Mione isn’t that dumb.”_

_“I’ll give you a hand with that, and she must be, she stayed with your dumb arse for as long as she did.”_

_“Hey mate, take that back!” Ron hollered and his friend gave a guffawing laugh, his broad shoulders shaking._

_“Fine then, but I can see this working very well for us.”_

_“It’s illegal though, innit?” Ron looked up again, liking the idea but not the thought of going to Azkaban._

_“Don’t be a pussy, Ron, everything will be fine.”_

_“If you say so, Dave.”_

Severus pulled from his mind, black eyes flashing at the Weasley idiot who collapsed back into his chair, limp.

“What is his last name?” His voice was calm, deathly quiet, and overflowing with a venom that should have killed Weasley on the spot.

“Who, whose last name?” He tried to feign ignorance. Severus lost his temper now, his wand pressing forward as he approached the git from around the table.

“Tell me his last name, I know you remember now.” Blue eyes flashed at black, Severus growled, pressing his wand to the boy’s cheek.  
“I will not hesitate to kill you, your wrongdoings will catch up to you, boy. _Now tell me_.” He bit out through clenched teeth, he felt a small hand on his shoulder and heaved a breath, pulling back and looking at Hermione.

“What did you see?”

“His friend.” Severus turned his glare back to Weasley.  
“You will be going to Azkaban, Weasley, now the question is, will you go alone, or will you take him with you?” He cocked an eyebrow, the redhead only laughed.

“He’s going to kill you both! I paid him enough to chase you for the rest of your lives if he has to!” Hermione buried her fingers in the robes that covered Severus’ back and he snarled, pulling back and glaring at the boy.

“How could you, Ron!? Why would you!?” Hermione had her hand over her mouth, her eyes were wide and sparkled with unshed tears.

“How could you leave me for a git like him!? All you had to do was obey! Listen to me, take care of my needs, and be obedient and I would have given you the world! I gave you everything, and now I’m going to take everything away!” He sniped, bitterness seeping into every word.  
“You’ll regret leaving me, Hermione…You’ll regret it.”

“He’s lost his mind Severus.” She gave him a somber look, he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head.

“I assure you, my love, if the Dark Lord could not do away with me, this dunderhead will have equally poor luck. In the meantime, my questioning has gone nowhere, and I know Phillip has been itching for an interrogation for some time now.”

“Interrogation?” Weasley’s face fell, Harry was an Auror, he knew the things that happened behind the scenes at the Ministry.

“Yes, well, the Aurors do enjoy a bit of fun before they send you to play with the Dementors, nasty fellows they are as well. I don’t know how you feel now, but the loss of any and all joy- it feels rather terrible.” Hermione looked up at him, he could tell by the look in her eyes she knew he spoke from experience.

The second the left the room, a screaming Weasley behind them his witch grasped his cheeks with both hands and pulled him down for another long kiss. She didn’t speak until they broke apart.

“I’ll be your joy, from now until forever, if you’ll be mine.”

“My perfect, sweet girl.” He lay his forehead against hers.  
“You are my everything, and I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about Severus, if I ever lost you…I…” She trailed, looking ill. He kissed her head, drawing her into him for another embrace.

“Don’t think that way, I’m not going anywhere, I didn’t survive Dumbledore and the Dark Lord to die now.” He smirked at lips against the skin of his neck.

“Take me home?”

“Again? Insatiable witch.” He grunted when she nipped at the exposed skin of his neck, just above his cravat.

“Only with you.”

“Good.” He pulled her to the floo, taking them home and thinking through his options. He needed to keep her safe first and foremost, and the two safest places for them were Prince Manor and Malfoy Manor.

For now they would stay home.


	25. Twenty-Four :.: Love Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own, nor do I claim to own Harry Potter or any parts of the original stories.  
> I write these fanfictions for fun and do not intend to infringe on any rights of J.K. Rowling or others who have ownership in full or part of the Harry Potter Universe.  
> No profit is being made, this story is purely for entertainment.

Hermione sat up in bed, she was stroking the hair back from Severus’ face as he lay beside her, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling in peaceful sleep.

She’d received an owl earlier that morning, they’d caught Ron’s accomplice and both were going to Azkaban for quite a long time. It settled something happy in her chest that she could now simply live out her daily life in happiness with the wizard of her dreams.

He had been so gentle with her, and she had been anything but easy to live with, especially in the days that first came after she’d left Ron.

Severus Snape had stuck with her though, he’d supported her through the hardest of moments and loved her when anyone else would have run away.

She couldn’t wait to give him the good news, they planned to marry, eventually, though Severus had assured her there was no rush. She stroked another piece of hair back from his face and smiled. She loved him so much, so much more than she ever could have expected.

He stirred but didn’t wake and she settled her body back down into the bed, her head nudging its way into the space between his shoulder and neck as she draped herself across his chest. This man, this perfect, beautiful man was the one she’d needed all along. How sad she’d had to go through an awful marriage to figure that out.

“Why are you awake?” His voice was groggy, heavy with sleep as his eyes opened to slits and she smiled, her face turning up so she could look into those beautiful black eyes. Darker than night, and deep, so incredibly deep she didn’t think she’d ever get enough of them.

“Because I received word from Mr. Avery.” She smiled when his eyes widened and he tried to sit up, only to be stopped by her body draped across his.

They’d been waiting four weeks for news, it was a wonder he’d not lost his mind with the waiting.

“And what did he say, considering you are not going to let me up.” She grinned, a cheeky smile that made her cheeks ache a little.

“He said that they caught him, and both are going away for a very long time, he’s sure. He sent the trial dates but Severus- I don’t want to go.”

He stroked her cheek, his eyes focused on hers as he turned so that her leg was thrown across his hip instead of his middle. He caressed her cheek longer, simply watching her eyes before he gave a soft nod.

“You’ve faced him already, you don’t want to be there for any more.” He surmised, earning a soft nod.

“I don’t need any more closure than I have. I know he won’t change, I know I can’t help him.” He kissed her gently, her leg thrown across his hips used to drag him closer to her as he wrapped her in his arms.

“I understand, love, will you be terribly upset if I attend without you?”

“You want to see him go away?”

“I want to see justice served. I want to see him realize all of his foolish mistakes, I want to know that our story can truly begin, our lives together in peace.” He affirmed, thumb rubbing gentle circles into her side. She smiled, her face aglow with love.

“If that’s what you need, who am I to deny you?” He kissed her, and they were happy.

“Our love story.” She hummed after several more soft kisses, Severus smiled this time, pulling her closer to him with large hands.

“It will be a fun one to tell the grandchildren.” Hermione flushed.

“Can we work on the children part, first?” He pecked a kiss to her lips.

“Perhaps we will be married, before the rest.” She gave him a broad grin.

“I don’t know, I wonder Mrs. Snape…Perhaps you should take the name Granger instead.” He gave her a mock-wide-eyed look.

“I find Mrs. Snape to be quite lovely, thank you Madam.”

“Aw, you don’t want to be Mr. Granger?” She teased, pecking his nose, he growled, flipping her so she lay beneath him.

“I would be anything, take any name, to make you happy.” She smiled up at him then, a soft smile, she could feel the blush spread across her cheeks.

“I know, but I truly find Mrs. Snape to be quite lovely.”

“Thank Merlin!” He groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She laughed, her arms slung around his back, holding him to her.

They had a long way to go before she was entirely healed but she knew, with her crow by her side, she could do anything.

“I love you, my crow.”

“I love you, my witch.”

<<< End >>>


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